


Wings To Fly With

by nevermoreraven



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe, Angels, Dean Has A Wing Kink, Experimentation, First Love, Hacking, Hunters, Inspirational Speeches, Kidnapping, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Propaganda, Revenge, Shifting perspectives, Silent War, Slavery, Switch Cas, Switch Dean, Unethical Experimentation, Violence, Wakes & Funerals, first long fic post, hunting au, only because I completely suck at this part
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 17:47:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4714847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevermoreraven/pseuds/nevermoreraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through the large hole in the ceiling there was a ray of light that pooled around the angels from the setting sun.  The light was a vibrant orange and cast an eerie glow on the three angels, but it was also the first time that Dean was able to get a close look at them.<br/>******<br/>There was a genetic mutation that created the Angel species.  Humans experiment on them after they are captured.  There are hunters who have devoted their lives to capturing these angels.  Eventually there are humans who create a resistance.  Sam convinces Dean to join and together they create an underground escape route that helps rescue angels.</p>
<p>Follow Dean and Sam as they work tirelessly to change the public's opinion and give all citizens freedom and equality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! So this is going to be my first long fic like ever. I have the entire plot plotted essentially. I also love feedback so feel free to comment, leave kudos, or bookmark.

"Dean was more than a brother," Sam swallowed thickly in a poor attempt to dislodge the lump in his throat, "he was more than a father, friend, he was my batman." Sam flicked his eyes up as he paused and looked around the church.

Every single pew was filled. There were news cameras with harsh lights that caused the temperature in the church to rise, leaving Sam with a thin sheen of sweat that probably wasn't attractive.

Sam lost himself as he looked at the crowd gathered before him.  He began to lose himself because he was so overwhelmed when suddenly his eyes locked with Bobby.  Bobby who was like a father to him.  His red rimmed eyes glistening dangerously while Ellen and Jo sat next to him.  Jo and Ellen held crumpled tissues and fought back tears as well.  All three of them nodded at Sam gently encouraging him to continue.  

Sam drew in a deep breath before continuing.

"I can't tell you how amazing he was in words, because there aren't any that can describe him. Dean was a hero in every sense of the word. The embodiment of all that is good wrapped  in a gruff exterior that spoke volumes of how big his heart was.

"For years, humans in general were cruel to Angels and Dean couldn't stand for it. He--" Sam choked back a sob, closed his eyes and took a few breaths, "he gave his life standing for what he believed in. His dream was for the coexistence of angels and humans. A dream that was only achieved with his death.

"My brother, Dean, was a bright star that will forever shine in both our hearts and minds. And in his last moments, he chose to protect the ones he loved, putting them first. Many of you don't know about our childhood, it was not the most conventional one to say the least, but I never felt neglected or unloved, Dean made sure of that.

"When I told him that I wanted to go to Stanford to study law focusing on angel rights, he supported my decision," Sam laughed bitterly, "hell, he even sent me money to help pay for a few expenses, while he built and expanded the underground movement that brought us to this point.

"So Dean, I know we didn't say it often enough, and I can hear you eyes rolling at this chick flick moment," soft laughter filled the church, "but I love you. I'm grateful for the time that we had together and I'll cherish our memories together until my dieing day. This isn't goodbye big brother, I'll see you later." Sam ended his speech with silent tears rolling down his face as he stepped from behind the podium and walked toward Castiel and Gabriel sitting proudly with their wings glowing softly in the brightly lit church.

*   *   *

December 1988

Nine year old Dean stood in the poor excuse of a kitchen attempting to find something for Sammy to eat. Sammy was in the other room watching television as Dean pondered their options.

There wasn't much left.  Their father was supposed to be back two days ago, but Dean still hadn’t heard from him.  He knew that he was supposed to protect Sam so he wasn’t going to go look for him.  Instead he was going to keep Sam so busy that he doesn’t ask questions about their dad.

Dean always made sure that Sammy had something to eat.  After opening the last cabinet Dean found one can of soup.  He took it over to the counter and poured it into the pan.  Suddenly, a flushed, five year old Sammy came rushing into the room.  He could hardly contain his excitement.

“De, De, come look! It’s a real life angel on TV.  Come look!” Sam practically vibrated through the floor.  Dean laughed and followed him to the living room.

Sam was pointing at the TV that had seen better days.  Through the static-filled screen, Dean saw an angel in chains being dragged toward a menacing building with high walls and barbed wire curling along its edges.

The angel tried to fight, tugging and twisting in a failed attempt to flee.  Its huge wings were forcefully bound to its back.  The volume was so low on the TV Dean couldn’t understand what was being said.  There was a little live icon in the corner of the screen letting the viewers know that it was happening right now.

About fifty years ago it was revealed that there were angels in the world.  Humans, being so understanding, feared them instantly.  What do humans do with something that they fear? They lash out at it.  Ever since their discovery, any angel that is captured is studied in a laboratory and “trained” to be sold to the rich as a sign of wealth.

The angels are captured by a select number of humans who hunt them.  These humans are called hunters and there is an entire network that focuses on meeting the hunter’s needs.  The hunters come from different backgrounds and with different stories.  

Some hunters hunt angels because of revenge, while others do it for sport, but most do it for profit.  Of all the hunters out there, there is only a small number of them that actually succeed in capturing an angel. A hunter needs a specific skill set in order to be successful.  There are many who assume capturing an angel would be easy, to their detriment.  Dad always came home with bruises, broken bones, and cuts on his face.  Dean routinely had to clean him up before Sam sees him.

Angels are stronger than humans.  Usually angels fight without their wings, but sometimes they use their wings in combat.  It gives them an advantage over humans.

The memory interrupted his thoughts.  Their mom was working on their garden outside while Dean five year old Dean played with Sammy on the floor.  He was trying to teach him how to walk.  Suddenly, he heard his mother scream.  Dean made sure that Sammy was on the floor and rushed to peek through the window.

He saw two angels.  They looked so dirty.  They didn’t have any shoes on.  Their clothing was torn and stained.  Dean tried to listen to what they were saying to his mom.  She looked scared of the two hissing angels that had their wings expanded as far as they would go.  Dean pushed the drape a little more, startling one of the angels.

It caused the other to reach for his mom and pull her out of sight.

Dean couldn’t see what happened after the angel stepped in front of her until the he stepped to the side.  Dean watched his mom fall to the ground her, head at an awkward angle.  

The other angel turned and looked right at Dean in the window.  His face was so angry that Dean started to tremble in fear.  As soon as he noticed that it was a child at the window and not a threat his face turned from rage, to shock, and finally to sadness.  He turned and looked at Dean’s mother on the ground.

The Impala’s engine rumbled into the driveway.

Both angels tensed and sharply looked at one another.  The shorter angel held his hand out to the taller one.

As Dean’s father rattled with his keys at the door, the angels looked to Dean and mouthed their apologies.

Dean blinked for the first time, trying to understand why they would even apologize and when he opened his eyes, he realized that they were gone.  

“De, what’s gonna happen to him?” Sam asked, drawing Dean away from the awful memories the angel onscreen brought back.  Dean blinked back tears as he rubbed his face harshly to make it look like something was stuck in his eyes.  He was nine years old for god's sake. He shouldn’t be crying like some baby.

“I don’t really know Sammy,” Dean reached for the button on the TV and switched it off, “come on, it’s time to eat.”  He turned around and walked back into the kitchen just in time, or the soup would have burned.

Sammy walked into the kitchen and sat at the table while Dean reached for a bowl and poured all the soup into it.  He placed a spoon in front of Sammy and then the bowl.  He turned to sink in order to do the dishes as he cautioned Sammy about the temperature of the soup.  

Dean did the few dishes in the sink as Sammy chatted happily wondering what humans would learn from the Angel.  Dean only half listened as he busied himself around the kitchen wiping down the already spotless countertops.  

“Dean, aren’t you going to eat?” Sammy asked suddenly.

Dean turned and shot him a smirk, “I already ate Sammy, so finish your soup.” he responded.

Sammy, bless him, was too little to understand what that meant and nodded happily as he talked about what he was learning at school.  After he finished eating, Sammy put his bowl in the sink and returned to the living room to watch more TV.

Dean was washing the bowl when their father came home.  His heart sank when he looked at his father’s face.  It was his moving face.

“Dean,” the oldest Winchester snapped, “pack up and be ready to head out in two hours.  I got a lead on an angel in Dallas.”

*   *   *

July 1994

The years dragged on, each one being worse than the last.  Sam started fighting with their father more and challenging the ethics behind hunting angels.  Meanwhile, Sam read every article that was released and held information regarding Angels.  

When angels were first discovered it had been by accident.  There had been hints of their existence throughout history, but their discovery had actually brought on their fall.

The species of angels were not from the bible, but rather a genetic mutation millions of years ago.  Angels looked like humans with wings, but there were some differences.  For example, they could fly.  They were generally stronger and faster than humans.  Over the years, through the angels being held in captivity it was learned that they age the same way as humans.  Although, they had stronger immune systems they fell ill with generally small illnesses such as the flu.  

What was really interesting is the fact that angels generally worked together.  Researchers learned that there was a language that they spoke to one another, but scientists couldn’t figure out what it was.  They also learned that angels looked after family.  

One of the studies that Sam left on the kitchen table and Dean happened to glance down and read stated that when siblings were separated, both angels fell into a small depression that would only lift when they were reuniting.  Dean snorted as he read the article because it didn’t seem like there was anything special about what they were saying.  Hell if someone was to capture Sam and keep them separated it would throw them into a depression as well.  It didn’t seem like it was something that should be surprising.  It was a human thing to do.  

Another article that Sammy had read was one that spoke about the discovery of angels.  It had been an accident really.  A hiker was hiking through the forest and was injured.  He was saved by an angel and instead of keeping his mouth shut he actually kidnapped the angel and sold it to a research facility, but that was after he had gone to every media outlet.  Finally the government had to step in and remove the guy and the angel.  They had sent the military into that particular forest, but what they found was the remnants of a village.

Over the next five decades, angels would be captured and studied like lab rats.  It made Dean uncomfortable because he would remember the look of fear on the two angels faces when he was a kid.

Dean swallowed the lump that suddenly filled his throat.  He really missed his mother and he knew that it would take a long time for him to heal.  Until then, Dean was going to keep doing what he was doing.  At the moment that was laundry.

Dean sighed, resigned to his fate and began to fold the freshly dried clothes from the dryer.  

They were in Washington state at the moment.  Dad was hunting, but ever since Dean turned fifteen he had been taking both Dean and Sam hunting with him.  

It was Saturday and Sam was in their room studying while Dean made sure that the apartment was clean.  Their father would be home in a few days and both boys tended to leave everything in disarray.

Dean mouthed Motorhead lyrics under his breath as he separated the laundry and put another load in the washer.  

He sighed and looked out of the small window.  This apartment wasn’t a complete dump at least.  There were some downsides to it, as in, it was only a one bedroom.  Also, when they did the laundry, they had to unplug the air conditioner because it would cause the electricity to short circuit leaving them in the dark.  That was why all the windows were open in the small apartment and Sam was holed up in the room with the only fan they had that would push around the moist humid air into some simbiance of coolness.

After folding all the laundry and ensuring there was enough detergent in the washer Dean made his way out of the kitchen and into the livingroom.  He stripped off his tee in a desperate effort to cool down.  There was a heatwave that wrapped the entire state in stifling heat.  There were even people who died from the dangerous temperatures.

Wiping the sweat off of his face and neck Dean walked into the room and ruffled Sam’s hair as he passed him sitting on the desk.  

“Hey, what was that for jerk?” Sam snapped never taking his eyes off of the book in front of him.

“No reason, can’t I ruffle your hair whenever I want to?  It’s getting too long Sammy, we gotta take you to get a haircut soon.”  Dean sprawled on the bed.  His teenage frame was beginning to fill out with muscle.  His was still too thin, reason being that he still put Sammy’s needs first.

Sam finally lifted his eyes from the book in his lap as he scowled at Dean, “It’s my hair and I don’t wanna cut it so leave me alone Dean.” Sam snarked.  

“Fine, look like a girl for all I care.  When dad comes back I’ll tell him all the things his daughter did while he was away, Samantha.”

Sam scowled at the mention of dad and that worried Dean.  Lately they were getting into more and more fights over the smallest things, but Sam was beginning to turn into a teenager.  He was what, all of four years younger than Dean.  It was surprising just how smart the kid was too, even though they were constantly being uprooted and moving from state to state. This year alone, Sam and Dean had been to five different schools.

Dean long ago gave up on getting a full rounded education, but he would be damned before Sam fell down the same path.  Dean winced when he realized that in a few weeks they would be back in school and Dean would be forced to come to terms with being the moron and new kid in the classroom again.

Before Sam could retort they heard their father come into the apartment.  Dean watched with dismay and Sam’s face that just a second ago was smiling was now stony and blank.

Dean rose from the bed and went out to meet their father.  It wasn’t anything new, they were leaving in the morning, after delivering the news he turned around and left saying that he was going to the bar in order to relax for a few hours.

Dean shook his head and looked at the clock, it was only two in the afternoon.

*   *   *

July 1996

They had been at Bobby’s for the past two months.  Dean worked regularly with him at the garage since Dean dropped out last year when they were in that god forsaken town in, well Dean doesn’t actually remember.  

He shook his head and went back to looking under the hood in front of him.  It was a routine oil change.

The smell of motor oil and metal wrapped itself around Dean and soothed him to the core.  He was beginning to worry about their father.  Over the years he had gotten worse that was sure.  His drinking had escalated to the point where Dean would have to hide his keys so that he couldn’t drive out to the nearest liquor store to buy another bottle.  Those nights were tame compared to the ones where he would get so drunk that he would rant and rave throwing whatever his hands would land on.  Screaming at Mary for leaving him, swearing revenge on the damn creatures that took his wife away from him.  

Then there were the days when Sammy would have a bug up his ass and argue with dad that angels were human and needed to be treated as such with rights and protections.

Dad would usually go into a rage and Dean would step in between them and shove them away from one another.

Dean and Sam have been at Bobby’s for the past three months.  Their dad dumped them and drove off.

Robert Singer, better known as Bobby owns a salvage yard with an attached repair shop in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.  Bobby met dad when Sam and Dean were only kids.  Dean remembers pulling up to the house one day because the Impala needed a part.  Sammy was still being potty trained and needed to use the bathroom so Dean told his dad that he had to go and dragged Sammy with him.  Dean knew that he didn’t have to use it, but he didn’t want dad to get angry at Sammy so he took the blame.

Afterward Bobby and dad became friends and learned that they were both hunters.  It turns out that Bobby had an extensive collection of books and artifacts that discussed angels and their repeated appearances throughout history.

Oftentimes dad would drop them off so that he could go on a hunt or follow a lead that would be too dangerous for the boys.  He would leave them for a few days or a week, but never for three months.  It was kind of funny, Dean loved his time at Bobby’s, as did Sam.  It was the only time that they actually got to be kids.

When Dean was about twelve years old he started to show an interest in cars and started learning how to do minor repairs or simple maintenance such as oil changes or light bulb replacement.  Sam on the other hand flourished at the tender age of eight years old by reading some of the books in Bobby’s collection.  Although a few of them were off limits because they were too graphic.

Huh, maybe that’s why Sam is all about angles having equal rights and being the same as people.  Dean shook his head and tightened the bolt after the oil finished draining.  He then changed the filter and rolled out from under the car.  Bobby came into the bay and Dean looked over at him.

“You all done?” He asked.

“Yeah, just got to put in the new oil.” Dean responded.

Bobby scowled.  He had a full beard that was in desperate need of a trim.  His salt and pepper hair was slicked back and tucked under a grease stained truckers cap that seemed more like a part of him than a separate article of clothing.   Lets not forget that the gruff bastard goes to bed and wakes up with a scowl.

“Well, what are you waitin’ for? An engraved invitation? Go on, get it done.”  Bobby snapped.

Dean grinned, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll get right on that old man,” he mumbled as he bent down to grab the quart of oil.  Suddenly there was a sharp pain at the back of his head from where Bobby cuffed him.

“Ow! Did you just slap me?” Dean asked as he gingerly rubbed his head.  

“I heard that you idjit, now hurry up.  I ain’t got all day.” Bobby said affectionately as he walked away.

“Yeah, well I already know that.  You’re like a hundred years old as it is Bobby.” Dean grumbled to himself when he knew that he was out of earshot.

This time around Bobby let Dean work at the shop for an actual legal paycheck and Dean has saved that money for when dad comes back and takes them on a hunt.  The money he leaves almost never lasts and Dean has to resort to stealing in order to ensure that Sammy has enough to eat.

After a few hours they knock off a little early.  It was Friday after all.  Friday at Bobby’s meant movie night and this time it was Dean’s turn to pick a movie and Sam’s to get snacks.  As Dean washed his hands of grease he wondered what he wanted to watch that would piss off Sam the most.  Eventually he settled on Star Wars, that way he could make comments about Sam being similar to Chewbacca.  An evil grin slid across his face.

Dean grabbed a towel and dried his hands, he knew that he had to take a shower when he got to the house.  It was the tail end of summer and Dean suspected that his dad would be back soon.  He probably didn’t want to have to pay for them to eat while there were at home all day.

Dean mopped his brow as he felt the stifling heat begin to cool off as the sun moved west in order to set.  Dean locked up the garage because Bobby went to take Sammy to the store to buy snacks.  Hopefully this time he doesn’t forget the licorice like last time.  Dean doesn’t care what he says, but licorice is a classic movie snack and is right up there with popcorn and it is not disgusting.

After pocketing the keys and walked toward the house, Dean froze when he saw the familiar shape of the Impala parked with his dad sitting on the porch steps.  Dean’s heart sank.  He knew, he just knew that it wasn’t going to last.  Dean resumed walking and reached his dad in time to hear Bobby’s truck drive over the gravel lined driveway.

John Winchester didn’t look too good.  His eyes were permanently lined with exhaustion and his mouth was set in a disapproving frown.  His hair had a little more gray in it than the last time, but on the bright side there weren’t any blood stains on the clothes that covered his large burly frame.  Dean slowly made his way up the steps as the doors slammed.

Dean felt the familiar sensation of detachment creep up on him.  He already knew that they were leaving.  It was a fact.  Dean wondered dimly if he was even sober this time.  

“Hey boys,” dad greeted them like nothing happened, “Bobby,” he nodded at him.

Sam stubbornly remained silent and walked up the stairs and waited by the door for Bobby to unlock it.  Dean could see his jaw flex with the effort not to confront their father. Dean mumbled a hello and followed Sam inside.

Once inside Sam went to the kitchen to deposit the bags in his hands and the three of them went into Bobby’s cluttered and dust covered livingroom.

“So, Dean,” John broke the uncomfortable silence that was slowly building and only being heightened by the occasional slam from the kitchen, “have you been practising your hand to hand?”

Dean effortlessly slipped into his soldier mode and heard Bobby begin to mutter under his breath, “Yes sir.” Dean responded immediately.

Sam stormed into the livingroom, “Where have you been dad?” he demanded. His twelve year old face a storm of emotion, “We haven’t heard from you in three months! Where have you been?”

“Sam,” Dean began to chastise him.

“No Dean,” the oldest Winchester interrupted him, “it’s alright.  I was following a lead on a few angles.  Finally was able to get them to come this way.  Wanted to take you boys with me because it’s about time you two got some hands on experience with the family business.”

“What?” Sam shouted incredulously.

“John, now I don’t think---” Bobby began at the same time.

“It doesn’t matter,” John snapped.  His voice was tinged with anger that caused Dean to cringe a little on the inside.  “You both are going and that’s final.  Now we are losing daylight, the angles are holed up in an abandoned building about fifteen minutes from here and once that sun sets they are going to move.”

John stared down at his sons, “Now go pack a bag and meet me in the Impala in three minutes.  We have maybe an hour of sunlight left.” He rose and walked outside.

Dean got up on autopilot and walked to his room.  Sam followed him, his footsteps thudding heavily as they climbed the stairs.  Once they reached the top they heard raised voices coming from outside, but they couldn’t make out any of the words.  The tone alone was enough to let them know they had to hurry.

Dean went into his room and looked around the small space.  There was a twin bed crammed into a corner with a dresser squeezed in next to the wall.  An old digital clock sat on top of the nightstand.  There were exactly two posters on the wall.  One was Led Zepplin and the other Metallica.  A desk was pushed against the other wall and clothing littered the floor.  Due to all the years of training with their dad Dean didn’t even need to pack a bag.  There was one already packed under the bed.

He bent down and grabbed it.  The bag was a simple black canvas where the straps crossed his chest and clung to his body.  Inside of it was different weapons that ranged from knives to guns.  There were also a few medical supplies, as well as, kevlar rope.  The reason for the kevlar rope was that it could keep an angel from being able to escape because it was used to bind their wings.  They couldn’t snap through it.

Dean opened the bag and glanced inside it to make sure everything was there, sure enough it looked exactly how he packed it.  Dean reached into his nightstand and grabbed a few more boxes of ammo and tossed it into the bag.  He zipped it up and walked out into the hallway in time to meet Sam.

They were outside and in the car in exactly three minutes.  Bobby and dad were glaring at one another as the boys slowly climbed into the Impala.

John walked around and slid into the drivers seat.  The drive to the abandoned building was tense as well as silent.  Dean went through a mental checklist.  Dad said that he had tracked a group of angels, that meant that there had to be three or more.  If it was more than three he wouldn’t have taken them.  This means that he;s been following them for a while and knows their patterns.

Hunting angels is not an easy job.  There are a few differences between the species, you know, other than the wings.  For example, they are a little bit stronger than your average human and adult angels know how to fight versus teen or child angels.  They also are very effective in protecting family members.  Usually they move together as a group and very rarely will someone find a lone angel.

Their wings give them two advantages, the first being obvious, they can fly.  The second is the fact that their wings can be used as a weapon.  That is why they have to be chained or tied to their backs once they are captured.  Dean knew that dad kept chains and a special gun that had darts filled with a special sedative used to knock out angels.

The drive ended up only taking them ten minutes and soon they were parking a few houses down from the abandoned building.  Dean stared at it.  It looked like it used to be some kind of grocery store.  The big showcase windows were boarded up, the wood beginning to rot in places from years of disuse.  The parking lot was filled with potholes and overgrown weeds and grass climbed out of the cracks in between the pavement.  The paint was peeling and the closer they came to the building the stronger the damp odor of mold became.

Dad already grabbed the dart gun from the trunk and told Dean to protect Sam no matter what.  Sam and Dean had grabbed their bags and followed their father silently.  They circled the building until they noticed that one of the boards had left drag marks in the dirt and rocks that lined the floor.  That must be the point of entry.

Quietly with Sam and Dean on either side, their dad lifted the board creating a small gap, big enough for them to slip through.  The scent of mold grew stronger and Dean nearly gagged when he realized that there was an underlying smell of dead pigeons in the building.  Quietly their father lifted the same board again while the boys stood guard, this time facing away from their father.  Dean had the dart gun aimed toward the floor, but ready to lift and shoot at any moment.

The quiet rustle and flapping of wings from the pigeons was disorienting.  His dad tapped Dean’s shoulder three times, the signal to give back the gun.  Dean passed him the dart gun and withdrew his own gun from the small of his back.  As their eyes adjusted to the dim light they realized that there were quiet voices coming from somewhere.

The empty grocery store made it hard to pinpoint where they were because of all the isles and abandoned boxes.  The acrid smell of smoke added with the dark stain of burned and singed wood joined the party.  There were outdated posters announcing the different sales on items along the wall that were long dead.  From what Dean gleaned of the building outside it seemed like a fairly open grocery store.  It was a huge rectangle with a small square attached to the side where the overstock must have been stored.  Three rows of checkout lanes were across from them meaning they must have slipped in from one of the windows that lined the store.

Their dad gave the signal for them to split up and he left toward the wall lined with refrigerator doors and Sam and Dean went right toward an open space with random squares and rectangles that rose to about the height of their hits.  It took Dean a moment to realize that this is where the produce must have been placed.

Dean made sure that his bag was secure across his back and chest and that Sam’s was as well.  Then he drew Sam to stand behind him and step in the same spots as Dean.  They didn’t want to accidently step on something that would alert the angels of their presence.  Dean’s heart began to beat painfully in his chest, knocking against his ribs in an effort to escape.  His palms began to sweat and he worried that he might actually drop the gun.

Over the echo of his heart in his ears he heard rustling to his left.  He paused and turned toward it, intent on checking it out when he heard his dad fighting something.  There was the dull thud of punches followed by the muffled sound of the dart gun going off.

Dean and Sam took off toward the noise in an attempt to help their father.  They ran down aisles  until they rounded a corner and skidded to a stop in time to see an adult angel twist their dad’s arm behind his back and shove him face first into one of the glass doors.  The sound of breaking glass from where his dad’s head collided with was deafening.  Dean immediately lifted his gun and pointed it toward the angel, his aim steady as he looked down the barrel of the gun.

His dad fell to the floor in a limp heap and Dean spoke for the first time in what felt like hours.  The angel still had his back to them and his chest rose and fell with harsh gasps and he tried to regain his bearings,  “Don’t move!”

The angel tensed and turned around.  Now scientists have been studying angels for a long time and one thing that they found out was that angels spoke their own language, Enochian, they called it.  They also learned that angels don’t speak or understand english unless they are trained, meaning going to be sold.  You know, because no one wants a slave that can’t follow directions.

“Step away from him,” Dean said as he made a little gesture with the gun in an attempt to get the angel to understand.

The angel looked from Sam and Dean down to their father who was lying on a pile of glass when suddenly there were two distinct patter of footsteps.  Dean whirled around and found two more angels standing behind them.  They were younger than the other one.  One of them looked like he was about six years old while the other seemed to be around Dean’s age.

Shit. How could Dean have forgotten about the other angels.  Dad said that it was a group.  Suddenly Dean realized that he couldn’t feel Sam’s body heat anymore and he slowly stepped away so that he could keep an eye on all of them.  

When he focused on Sam his heart stilled in his chest.  The adult angel had an arm awkwardly wrapped around Sam’s throat and the other hand was buried in Sam’s too long hair.  Sam stared at Dean with terror in his eyes.  Fuck!  They needed to be able to get out of this.  Their father was still unconscious and there was a small dark pool surrounding his head like a sick kind of halo.  

Dean’s hands trembled and he knew that he had to put the gun down before he accidentally shot someone.  That was one of the top rules of having a gun, if you can’t keep it steady then put it down.

“Dean---” Sam started, he paused and then looked back at the angel holding him, “Dean---he’s not really hurting me.” Sam said as he looked back at him.

Dean paused, he slowly lowered the gun and watched as the other angels slowly step toward the oldest.  The dim light of the abandoned building made it hard to see the angels clearly, but eventually Sam was able to slowly push away the arm that held him in place.  

Dean checked the safety on the gun and made sure that it was on before he slowly lowered the gun to the floor.  He still had his knife as back-up, granted it wasn’t a lot, but it was better than nothing.  

When the angels saw Dean place the gun on the floor they finally allowed Sam to walk back to Dean.  Dean reached out and grasped his brother pulling him close and making sure that he was behind him.

Through the large hole in the ceiling there was a ray of light that pooled around the angels from the setting sun.  The light was a vibrant orange and cast an eerie glow on the three angels, but it was also the first time that Dean was able to get a close look at them.

The oldest angel had light brown hair that bordered blonde.  He also had wings that were huge because even pressed against his back they towered over his slight frame.  The color of his wings were gold and they glittered in the orange sunlight.  He wore a pair of pants that were ripped and torn with streaks of blood and smudges of dirt throughout the fabric.  He wore a pair of shoes that were probably once white, but now were caked in mud and a dingy yellow covered the areas that weren’t covered in mud.

He didn’t wear a shirt, but there were cuts and bruises that riddled his chest and arms.  Dark colored lines fell across the muscles of his upper arms and down to his wrists in swirling designs.  They looked like tattoos, but how would angels know about tattoos Dean wondered.

His face was bruised, his lip was split open and blood dripped down his chin, he didn’t even react to the pain.  Although the arm that he had wrapped around Sam hung limply at his side and as Dean looked at the joint of his shoulder he noted that it was dislocated.  It had to hurt.  

When Dean’s eyes finally traveled back to his face Dean noted that his eyes were a light brown.  It was similar to the color of aged whiskey.

There was a slight shuffling sound as one of the angels moved toward the oldest and Dean felt his heart pound for a completely different reason.  The teenage angel was beautiful.  His frame was slim, but muscular.  His hair was black in the light and looked unruly as the tresses stood out in every direction.  His face was angular and the beginning of stubble dusted his cheeks.  

He wore clothing similar to the oldest angel, but he did not have any tattoos.  What really caught Dean’s attention was his eyes.  They had the most surreal glow in the light.  The blue was so deep that Dean felt as if he could see into his soul.  

What might be more impressive than his eyes were his wings.  They glittered midnight blue in the light and black in the darkness.  His wings were almost as big as the oldest and they were curved protectively around the two other angels.  His lips looked dry and chapped.

Dean blinked at the last thought that he had and shook his head.  He glanced back to Sam and the little angel kid moved to the other side of the oldest one.  He looked like a normal kid if it weren’t for the dark brown wings at his back.  They were smaller so they allowed for the child to wear a shirt.  Dean smothered a laugh as he noticed what was on the shirt.  It was a dark blue shirt with Thomas the Train on it.  

The three angels murmured quietly to one another in their language and pointed at the two of them.  Dean hoped they weren’t going to kill them, it is just his luck, his first hunt and he fucked it up somehow.

Dean felt a tug on his sleeve and looked back to his brother, “Dean,” Sam whispered, “we have to help them.  The older one has a dislocated shoulder.”

Dean turned around to glare at his brother, it might not have been the brightest thing that he’s ever done, but he raised his arms and roughly gripped Sam’s shoulders, “What the fuck are you talking about Sam?  They aren’t going to want our help, they are probably plotting our deaths as we speak.” Dean whispered harshly.

“Dean, if they were going to kill us, they would have by now.” Sam pointed out simply.

Dean opened his mouth to respond and paused, he was right.  Dean broke rule number one when it comes to hunting, he turned his back to the enemy.  Dean whirled around thinking that they had a knife ready to stab him.  

He froze at the scene he saw.  The little kid was pushed back into the darkness and the blue eyed angel was tilting the other’s face in the light trying to see the damage.  They were completely disinterested in Dean and Sam.

Dean looked back at Sam, his eyes fell on his father who was still passed out on the floor and then back to the angels.  He sighed and reached for the clasp on the bag strapped to his chest and pressed the release button.

There was a sharp click that caused both angels to tense and pause mid discussion.  Four sets of eyes fell on Dean.  He raised his other hand up in a poor attempt to reassure the angels.  His first aid kit was in his bag.  Sam instantly understood what Dean wanted to do and stepped next to him talking, “He doesn’t want to hurt you, he has medical supplies in his bag.  He want’s to help.”

Sam always the people person who was able to connect with everyone and everything.  Dean sighed and slowly lowered the bag to the floor.  He turned it so that the angels could see what was inside when he opened.  The tension thickened when they saw how many weapons were in the bag, but Dean ignored them and reached for the slim white box that contained his first aid kit.

He pulled out the box and zipped the bag to close it again.  Dean rose and tilted the box in their direction as he opened it.  The box contained basic first aid supplies such as rubbing alcohol, bandaids, gauze, a suture needle and thread.  All three angels looked in the box and the teenager nodded.

Dean took that as permission to step closer and went to stand in front of the older angel.  He lifted his arm to gesture to a box to that the angel could sit on.  They made no move to get it, Sam instead went and grabbed the dust and cobwebbed contraption and placed it in front of the angel.

The guy sat down and Dean went to work.  He took out alcohol pads and began wiping the blood from the guys face.  There was a lot, the other angel touched Dean’s shoulder and he jumped.  Dean brought his eyes up and looked into the teens eyes and suddenly his heart was pounding again.  The angel lifted his hand as if the ask for some wipes as well.  He wanted to help clean the guy up.

Dean stared at it and Blue Eyes just held out a hand for Dean to give him an alcohol wipe.  Dean gazed at his outstretched hand for a moment before handing one over.  He reached for a new one and showed Blue Eyes how to open the flat square.

Dean resumed wiping the older one’s face.  It was kind of hard because the dude was staring unrelentingly.  Blue Eyes moved behind him and the oldest angel shifted his wings to allow room for him to stand between them at his back.

Dean shrugged and resumed wiping the angel down.  Sam was silent as Dean and Blue Eyes worked.  Most of the wounds had stopped bleeding and every time Dean looked at certain wounds it was as if they were healing right before his eyes.  They looked better with every passing minute.

Dean did what he could but eventually only a few of his cuts needed to be bandaged.  The purple black bruises had turned into a sickening green and yellow combination that was anything but attractive.  The entire time they worked the angel didn’t make a single sound.  Dean knew he had to ache like a bitch, but he had to give the guy props for being such a complete badass.

After about twenty minutes the sun had completely set in the distance leaving them all shrouded in darkness.  Dean murmured to Sam to take out a flashlight so that he could see while he worked.  Sam pulled one from his bag and pointed it toward the floor for both privacy and not to startle anyone.

Dean took a moment to compose himself before he spoke up for the first time.  His voice was scratchy from disuse and terror, “That shoulder is dislocated.  I need to pop it back into the point.  It’s really going to hurt.” Dean looked into the Golden angels eyes hoping that he understood him.  His face was impassive, a cold mask.  Dean sighed as he continued, “God I hope you understood that.”

He motioned for Blue Eyes to take a step back, but he stubbornly stood rooted in place.  Sam finally moved and gently tugged at his arm until he took a few steps back.

“On three,” Dean began as he firmly grasped his arm, “one, two---” and Dean quickly jerked the arm back at an angle in order to place it back in the socket.  Dean closed his eyes and leaned away waiting for the guy to smite him.

It never came.  The only thing that changed was that he drew in ragged breaths that caused his entire frame to shudder.  Dean tentatively reached out and bent his arm at the elbow as he called out to Sam, “Sammy, go find something we can make a sling with.”

“Okay,” he said.

Dean waited tensely until he returned with a scrap of fabric.  Dean quickly fashioned a sling and gently eased it onto the guy.  He finally took a step back and Sam reached out and held Dean’s hand the way that he used to when he was scared or nervous.  They stared at the two angels.  

Dean frowned, “Where’d the little one go?” he asked.

Sam swept the flashlight around and it landed on a small form curled up and asleep on the floor.  The older one chuckled and Dean realized that it was the first sound she actually could make out.

Blue Eyes snickered and reached down to pick up the kid.  The light caused his wings to simmer dark and midnight blue, which caused his eyes to glow almost unnaturally.  Dean was mesmerized.

Then they turned and stared at Sam and Dean.  Their eyes held sadness that was similar to an individual who has been brutalized their entire life and finally found kindness.  It was confusion stained with years of torment.  

Sam and Dean both tensed as both angels bent their knees, spread their wings, and lifted off the ground.  The brothers gazed in hypnotized wonder at the sky littered with twinkling lights.  Through the same hole that had bathed them in light as the sun had set.  The angels were nowhere to be seen.

“Well that was intense.” Dean snarked.

Sammy, who was still staring up at the night sky just reached out and slapped his shoulder, “Don’t be a jerk.”

“Whatever bitch.”

They sobered quickly as they looked at their dad.  He had groaned and instantly they were by his side.  

Dean couldn’t help but wonder about the strange encounter as he helped his dad sit up.

*   *   *

When they returned to Bobby’s he was pissed.  He sent Sam and Dean upstairs and went to patch up their dad.

Dean showered and slipped between the sheets of his bed.  He wondered about the angels they essentially rescued.  They didn’t attack them the way Dean would have thought.

In fact, they all seemed pretty intelligent.  The encounter couldn’t have taken more than thirty minutes.  

Dean’s chest started to warm as he thought of Blue Eyes.  Dean wasn’t stupid, he knew he was different from his peers.  When he was in school he often would find himself not only checking out the girls, but a few dudes as well.

He found that thought of experiencing anything romantic or sexual with another dude exciting instead of repulsive like his other peers.  Dean wasn’t confused about his attraction for the other guy because of his sex, but rather because of his species.  He was an angel.  He was another species, that had to be sick.  Yet instead of feeling gross or disgusted he felt a small warm ball settle under his ribs.  

That should have been repulsive, but instead Dean found himself thinking back to his wings.  The way they had simmered in the darkness had been absolutely breathtaking.  Dean noticed that his breathing had stuttered and hitched the more he thought of them.  He wondered what they would feel like?  Would they be soft or coarse?  Would he ever see the guy again?

Dean hoped that no one ever caught him.  

Finally Dean turned around to face the wall and tried to quiet his mind enough to sleep.  Everything would make more sense later.

*   *   *

January 1997

As Dean grew older he realized that his father wasn’t similar to all the superheroes that he had read about as a kid.  John Winchester wasn’t a secret Batman out there saving all the humans from the evil angels, no he was just a broken man who lost his way after coming home and finding his two children crying, while his wife lay in a crumpled heap on the floor of her meticulously manicured garden.  

The police came soon after and four year old Dean saw a cop up close and personal for the first time.  They wore dark blue uniforms that darkened into black as the sun set in the horizon.  Their faces were replicas.  Set in grim lines as they searched the crime scene.  His mom was covered by a sheet that hid the empty imitation of Mary.  John clung to his sons in the Impala.  

Dean didn’t understand what was going on around him and he kept asking for his mother.  He sat in the car and stared at the front door waiting for her to walk through.  She usually swept him up in her arms and made everything better, but Dean hasn’t seen her since she went outside to water the flowers.

One of the police officers was really nice.  He had brown eyes and brown hair.  He was shorter than daddy and a little fatter.  He kneeled next to Dean and spoke in a calm soothing voice.  He kept asking Dean what happened.  He kept asking him what he saw.  Little Dean could only close his eyes and shake his head as he trembled and clung tighter to his father.

That night dad took them to a hotel so that they could sleep.  Six month old Sammy kept crying and Dean watched as his father became more and more frustrated.  Finally Dean stepped in and carefully pulled little Sammy from John’s grip.  Dean soothed Sammy by rocking him side to side while singing “Hey Jude” just like mommy does to him every night.  

By the end of the song Sammy had fallen asleep and John carefully placed him in the playpen that was acting as a crib.

John lifted the blanket on the bed and Dean crawled under the covers.  His dad tucked him in and stretched out on the other side.  John’s red rimmed eyes looked into Dean’s as he asked him to tell daddy what happened.  One word slipped past his slips as sleep dragged his exhausted little body under, “Angel’s.” For a little while Dean only saw the back of his eyelids when suddenly he was standing at the window again.

Only this time as he stared at the angels he notice their arms were at their sides and a dark shadow crept closer from the tree line that lined the back of their yard.

Dean jerked awake with a gasp as he sat up in the bed panting his hands slapping at his body to make sure that he wasn’t four years old, but in fact sixteen.  Dimly it registered that his entire body was soaked in sweat.  His long sleeve sweatshirt and pants clung to his slim form.  He started to shiver from the cool temperature of the room.  Winter in South Dakota are known to be brutal.

He pulled his knees close to his chest and wrapped his arms around them as he tried to get his breathing to slow down.  He pressed his face into his knees and squeezed his eyes shut as he struggled to pull in long deep even breaths.  Tears began to gather under his burning lids as the nightmare slowly lingered in his mind.  This was one of the first times that he actually remembered the entire dream clearly and without any time gaps or jumps.

Slowly his breathing steadied and Dean was able to loosen the tight grip he had of his limbs.  He glanced over at the clock on the nightstand next to his bed and saw the dim glow of numbers that shone too brightly in the dark room.

**4:27 a.m.**

Dean slid to the edge of the bed and put his feet on the floor.  There was no way he was going to go back to sleep.  Distantly he noted that all his blankets were a jumbled mess on the floor from his thrashing during the throws of the nightmare.  

After taking a deep breath Dean reached into the nightstand and found a crumpled sheet of paper and a pen that was drying out.  Dean remembers helping Sammy on a project for school that had him write down his dreams immediately after he woke up to show how much of the dream he remembered as the day wore in.  Dean knew that he was going to start forgetting the dream so he quickly started writing everything that he remembered down.  That way, he could analyze the dream later.  Dean snorted at himself, when the hell did he start using words like analyze?

Once everything was written down he glanced at the clock again.

**5:01 a.m.**

He rose after tossing the pen and paper on the nightstand.  He made his way to the only bathroom at Bobby’s.  Dean relieved himself and flushed.

He went back to the sink and lifted his eyes to look at his reflection for the first time.  There were dark circles under his eyes that made them looked like they were sunken into the sockets.  His freckles stood out starkly against his pale skin.  In other words he looked like shit.

Dean gazed at himself in the brightly lit bathroom and wondered what would have became of him had he stayed with their dad.

After the incident, he had taken to calling that moment when they helped the angels.  They had woken up and found Bobby in the livingroom.  He looked up at Sam and Dean as they came down the stairs, “He’s gone.  He left early this morning, you two will be staying here with me.” Bobby rose, “Tomorrow, the three of us will go down to the school and get you two registered.”

Dean shook his head to clear the memory and turned on the faucet.  He splashed cold water to chase away the demons that hid in his mind.

Dean smacked the light off and went down to the kitchen to make coffee.  He poured himself a cup and sat at the table.  The sun pressed against the drapes on the window as it rose, bathing the kitchen in an eerie glow.  Dean had been sitting in the dark he dimly noted.

Bobby’s alarm went off at seven thirty and Dean smiled as he head his curses from the kitchen.  He rose and poured him a second mug, even going as far as fixing it the way he likes.  No cream, but lots of sugar.

“The hell are you doing up boy?” Bobby snapped from the doorway.

Dean grinned, “Ah, ever the morning person.  Come on in I made you coffee so that you could whisper sweet nothings in my ear.” Bobby was his usual ray of sunshine in the morning.

Bobby grunted as he took the mug offered and looked at Dean pointedly, “How long have you been up?”

Dean shrugged and busied himself pulling out pots and pans to make breakfast.  After a moment of tense silence Bobby kicked him out of the kitchen to get ready for school.

Dean paused at Sam’s door and pounded on the closed door, “Rise and shine princess, we gotta get ready for school!”

A string of curses echoed as Sam complained about his rude awakening.

Dean grinned as the ball of ice that had settled around his heart loosened.  He was safe and surrounded by people who loved him.

He went to his room and grabbed a change of clothes and rushed into the bathroom when he saw Sam’s door begin to open.

Sam’s indignant cry caused Dean to chuckle, “Too slow Sammy,” he teased as he stripped.  Sam’s response was muffled by the door so Dean turned on the shower, “What was that princess?” he shouted as he stepped under the warm spray.

There was nothing to worry about.  It was just a stupid nightmare and pretty soon he would forget all about it.

 

 


	2. Formal Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck visibly blanched at the mention of his last name and suddenly he was looking around the library in a manner that Sam recognized as looking for an escape route. Sam frowned at him and turned to look at Charlie to see if she noticed his odd behavior when Chuck took that opportunity to try to run for it.
> 
> Sam felt all the years of training under his father come to a head when he reached out and grabbed Chuck’s wrist before he could fully flee. Sam rose at the same time because the sudden stop would cause him to stumble and Sam soothed him as he tugged him closer in what others might think is a light hold, but is actually a vice grip.  
> *********  
> We follow Sam as he begins to build the underground. He makes new friends an old ghost appears at his doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> So I am super excited to post chapter two. I hope you all enjoy it. I really struggled writing from Sam's perspective so if you see anything that doesn't fit please let me know. Also, I don't have a beta, I was too excited to sit and edit right now. I'll do it later.

_Present Day_

Sam was crossing the street in a rush.  He had to get to class and he was running late because his study session ran over.  Sam finally reached his building and he adjusted his bag as he entered the lecture hall and slipped into the first available seat.  

The class was interesting since it was a Philosophy class that focused on angels and their treatment.  Was it ethical to treat angels as property rather than equals?  Were there misconceptions that were perpetuated by the media in order for the species to remain oppressed?  
Sam went to Stanford University in order to become an attorney that focused on angel rights cases.  His dad didn’t like it one bit, but Sam didn’t let that stop him from reaching for his dreams.

As if John Winchester even had the right to have a say in how Sam chooses to live his life.  The only thing he regretted from that night was the fact that he hasn’t seen or heard from Dean since then.  Sam knows he’s okay because every few months he would find an envelope stuffed with cash shoved under the door to his room.  Whenever he found those packages it caused the little ball of worry to loosen in his heart.  The lead-like weight would lift just a little.  

*   *   *

_Two years earlier_

Eighteen year-old Sam sat in Bobby’s living room clinging to the envelope from Stanford.  This was it. This envelope either contained an acceptance or rejection letter.  With trembling fingers Sam opened the letter and his eyes brightened as he read his acceptance letter.

Sam was accepted! He shouted, “Dean! Dean, get your ass down here! I did it! I got in! With a full ride!”

Dean pounded his way down the stairs and suddenly Sam was tackled into a bone-crushing hug.  Sam was smiling so hard that his face actually hurt.

“That’s awesome Sammy.” Dean exclaimed as he ripped the letter out of his hand and read it over.

Sam felt a small pang when he realized that he was going to do away to college but his brother, the same one who practically raised him, didn’t even get to finish high school.  During Dean’s senior year dad came back and took him on a hunt.  They were gone for nearly six months it was too late for Dean to go back.

Sam wasn’t stupid.  He knows that Dean does a lot for him and he always tried to pay him back by trying his hardest at school.  It seems like it all paid off in the end.    
All those nights spent hunched over a desk studying for some kind exam in different schools.  All the states they drove through as kids that eventually blurred together and were only bearable because Dean was at his side.  

Their mom may have died before Sam had the chance to know her, but Dean constantly showed him how much he was loved by being there.  
“What the hell are you two yammering on about?” Bobby’s voice cut through the excitement, “I could hear you two hollering outside.”

Sam snatched back his letter from Dean and held it up for Bobby to see, “You are looking at my acceptance letter to Stanford University in the state of California.” Sam stated proudly.

Bobby was pensive for a moment before a grin large enough to rival Sam’s spread across his face, “Huh, well it’s not like they were ever going to turn you down.  You’ve always been a smart kid unlike this one over here.” Bobby teased with a grin.

“Hey!” Dean sulked.

Bobby grabbed Sam into a huge bear hug and whispered, “Good job so---Sam.”

Sam blinked back tears and nodded.

The rest of the school year flew by.  

Sam graduated in May and Dean and Bobby came to his graduation ceremony.  They tried to get a hold of dad, but he never picked up and every voicemail that was left remained unreturned.

The summer wasn’t any slower.  

Sam spent the summer working for Bobby by greeting customers and filing paperwork.  The money he made from that was put into a savings account to be used when he moved to California.

Dean went on a few hunts with their dad, but he always came back.  Granted each time he came back he was a little more worn down, but he was home and that was all that mattered. 

Their dad on the other hand didn’t bother to come visit.  It seemed that he had better things to take care of than actually spending time with his children, who now were adults.  
It was Sam’s last week at Bobby’s, which over the past few years had turned into home.  Sam spent most of the week at Bobby’s between spending time with Bobby and packing.    
Suddenly it was the night before Sam had to leave and he tried calling Dean, but it kept going straight to voicemail.  He tried calling his dad and the same thing happened.  He was starting to worry because there has always been one reliable thing about Dean and that he never broke his promises to Sam.

It was nearly four in the morning and Sam was dozing on the couch with the T.V. on, its volume was turned down really low.  Bobby was completely lost to the world, if his snores were anything to go by.  The room was dark, but the dull glow from the television cast an eerie glow.

Sam wondered what woke him when he heard the distinct sounds of two car doors closing coming from outside.  He instantly leapt to his feet and ran over to the door.  His long gangly limbs seeming to not want to cooperate and instead hit every single doorway and end table on the way to the door, which meant that by the time he made it to the door it was already open. 

As the door swung open Dean and their father walked in. 

Sam frowned when he realized that Dean was limping.  He rushed to help him, “Dean what happened?” he asked as he steadily ignored their father.

“Nothing Sammy, I uh---“ Dean paused to drop his bag on the floor, “well Sammy, it’s not all that important.  I promised to see you off and here I am.”

Sam’s frown deepened, he was just about to press the issue when his father called out, “See him off?” dad turned and looked at Dean, “He going on a hunt that I don’t know about? That why you almost killed yourself in a rush to get back here?”

Both of them tensed.  Did he really not know?  Of course he doesn’t, Sam never told him and apparently neither had Dean or Bobby.  Sam shook his head and helped Dean get more comfortable.

“No dad,” Sam began “I’m not going on a hunt, I’m going to college.”  He looked up and zeroed in on his dads face.  Sam felt Dean cringe beside him on the couch as their father’s face transformed.

He went from confused pride to downright rage.  It wasn’t as if John didn’t want his children to be educated, he thought they would follow in his footsteps.  Dean did, why wouldn’t Sam.

“Instead of helping the human race you want to skip out on your family and go to college,” dad sneered “and what are you going to study?” John asked with enough venom in his voice to darken the space around him.

The tension in the room caused Bobby to wake up, but he remained silent as he observed what was happening.  Dean put a restraining hand on Sam’s arm to hold him back when he tensed ready to rip his dad a new one.  The hand was a silent plea not to make it any worse, but Sam couldn’t hold back the next words that spilled from his lips, “I’m going to school to be a lawyer focusing on angel rights.” Sam said softly.

His dad’s eyes widened when he heard what Sam wanted to do and suddenly he flushed in anger, “What the fuck did you just say?  Did I hear you right? You want to go to school to help out angels?” 

The room was silent making the next word echo in the room, “Yes.”

Slowly dad rose and stalked toward Sam, “You want to represent the same fucking things that killed your mother?” John spat in Sam’s face as he continued “What the hell is wrong with you that you would dishonor her memory in such a disgusting way?”

Sam flinched at the mention of his mother, but he remained firm, “It doesn’t matter dad.  I want to represent those who are oppressed and right now it is the angel species.  I’ve tried to talk to you for years about it, everything that we have learned about angels suggests that they are peaceful yet protective.  I’m not dishonoring mom’s memory because I don’t have any of her!” Sam was practically yelling by the end of his speech. Sam rose as well and dimly realized that he was a little bit taller than his father as he pressed his face even closer than his dad.  

Dean rose and slipped between Sam and their dad, it was a move that wasn’t lost to Bobby who finally spoke up, “John,” he began slowly “it’s not a bad thing.  We can really use someone who understands angels on our side.”

Dad whirled to Bobby, “You approve of this?  You have no right Bobby.  They ain’t your kids, they’re mine and I don’t approve.  He isn’t going and that’s final.”

“Dad that was uncalled for.” Dean told their father as he slowly pushed Sam further away from him.

“Uncalled for?” John exploded “I let you two stay here so you would have a stable home base, not abandon the family business!”

Sam stalked around the room and glared at his dad when he reached for the door, “I’m not abandoning the family dad, you did that a long time ago.”

John froze as he stared at Sam posed by the door and the next words clawed their way out of his throat, “You walk out that door you don’t come back you hear.”

As Sam opened the door he turned and looked around the room and took in the looks of dismay and shock on Dean and Bobby’s faces. His eyes finally settled on his father.  The same man who should have been there to raise him instead of it being Dean.  John Winchester was the same man who shattered when his wife was murdered that Sam is supposed to call his father.  Sam glared at him as he felt his body betray him by the burning behind his lids and he forcibly turned himself around and walked out the door slamming it in his wake.  

*   *   *

Sam was sitting at the library late at night when it happened.  He was minding his own business, studying for class when he overheard the red headed girl from his philosophy class talking on the phone.  She was talking about wanting to help out the angels by changing the way that the media presents them.  


Without meaning too Sam found himself leaning closer to listen to the rest of her conversation but she went back to talking quietly.  Sam shrugged and went back reading.  His girlfriend Jessica Moore was going to be late coming home since she had clinical hours at the hospital that needed to be completed before the end of the semester.  Sam met her on his first day of school.  He spent the remaining week stumbling and tripping over his words whenever he spoke to her.  It was actually one of the times that he wished Dean was there because he would know what to do.  Dean would have told him how to be confident and not a stuttering mess of eighteen year-old.    


Jess had found it endearing and accepted his sloppy attempt to ask her out on a date.  They have been together ever since.  Jess was going to school to be a nurse, whereas Sam was going to be a lawyer.  They’ve been together for two years and Sam was sad that Dean never got the chance to meet her.  


His thoughts constantly slid back to his brother and it made his chest hurt because the last time they spoke was that night.  Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.  He opened the screen and pulled up his brother’s number.  He was about to press the text message icon when suddenly ninety pounds of red head slid into the seat in front of him.  


“Hey there hot stuff.” She said.  


“Uh—I’m not---uh I’m actually with---“ Sam eloquently started.  


The redhead looked at him and then she leaned back in her seat and laughed, “Oh no honey, don’t you worry, we both play for the same team if you know what I mean?” she thrust out her hand, “Name’s Charlie, Charlie Bradbury, and I know you from class but I don’t actually know your name sorry.”   


Sam grinned, “Wow, that’s one hell of an introduction,” Sam continued, “I’m Sam and yeah we have Philosophy together.”  


Charlie threw her head back and laughed.  She had red hair that cascaded down to her shoulders.  Her skin was clear and freckles stood pronounced across the bridge of her nose and cheekbones.  Her eyes were green and sparkled like emeralds in the ocean.  She wore a novelty tee with a brown leather jacket and her bag was crossed over her chest.  She looked like a cross between overexcited teenager and forty-year old virgin.  It was a combination that was completely endearing.  


“Sam,” she started after calming down from the laughter, “what are you going to school for?” she asked.  


“I thought we covered that on the first day?” Sam stated.  


Charlie rolled her eyes, “I was so hung over the first day that it wasn’t even funny.”   


Sam coughed to cover his laugh, “Well I am pre-law,” he stated “with the focus on angel rights.”  


Charlie’s eyebrow shot up to her hairline, “Really,” she drawled out, “well that’s really cool.  I don’t like how angels are treated either.”   


“I figured as much seeing as you are in the same class as I am.” Sam responded.  


“Yeah, I think that was a little bit of a give away,” she chuckled again and sobered quickly, “I just wish there was something that we could do to get people to realize that they way they are treating angels is wrong.”  


Sam nodded, “I agree with you, but the problem is a lot of people don’t want to hear about it.  There is so much misinformation out there that it would take forever to get the right information out there.”  


Charlie leaned forward and spoke quietly, “What if there was a way to do that.  A way to get everyone to, I don’t know, look at it from a different perspective.”   
Sam considered her statement for a moment, “What if there was like a website that had information on angels?  One that wasn’t affiliated with any political or news group?”  
Charlie pursed her lips, “Yeah, that would be awesome, but---“  


“Charlie?” came a voice to their left.  Both of them looked up and saw a man still wrapped in his robe, complete with stained pajama bottoms and slippers.  He looked like he was older than both of them, maybe late twenties. His hair stood out in tufts around his face as if he constantly runs his fingers through it.    
Charlie leaned back and a huge grin broke out across her face, “Chuck, how are you doing honey?  I see you’re almost done with the semester,” she said acknowledging the state of his attire.  


Chuck glanced down and flushed when he realized that he was dressed like an alcoholic and stoner teen rolled into one, “I was just looking for a book in here that would be the last source for my thesis.”   


This time Sam and Charlie both grinned at him, “That’s great Chuck, come here, sit down with us.  Take a load off and come bask in our awesomeness.”   
Chuck nervously looked at Sam and then took the seat next to Charlie who continued with the introductions, “Chuck Shurley, this is Sam,” she scrunched her face in confusion, “I never got his last name, but Sam this is Chuck.”  


Sam reached across to shake his hand and murmured his full name, “Sam Winchester.”   


Chuck visibly blanched at the mention of his last name and suddenly he was looking around the library in a manner that Sam recognized as looking for an escape route.  Sam frowned at him and turned to look at Charlie to see if she noticed his odd behavior when Chuck took that opportunity to try to run for it.  


Sam felt all the years of training under his father come to a head when he reached out and grabbed Chuck’s wrist before he could fully flee.  Sam rose at the same time because the sudden stop would cause him to stumble and Sam soothed him as he tugged him closer in what others might think is a light hold, but is actually a vice grip.    


“Whoa there man, it seems like you had a little too much to drink,” Sam led him to the seat next to him and continued, “here sit down and take a breath.”  


Chuck stuttered and finally sat down looking at the table, Charlie spoke up, “What’s wrong Chuck, you look like you saw a ghost.”  


“I, uh, I’m okay, it seems that Sam is right, I have had too much to drink.”   


Charlie looked between the two of them pensively, but decided that it wasn’t worth pursuing when she turned to Sam in order to finish their earlier conversation, “I can put together a website that has the stuff that we were talking about earlier, but we need to come up with the correct information that pertains to the angels and their culture.  Do you know anything?”   


Sam nodded, “Yeah, I have a whole folder that I have been putting together ever since I was little and realized that what humans were doing the angels was wrong.  My dad didn’t like it, but my brother helped me by ordering all the articles.” Sam paused considering an idea, “If you want we can go to my apartment and you can take a look at all my stuff.  That is if you’re free.”   


Charlie nodded and told him that tonight she couldn’t because she had an early class in the morning, but she was off from work on Saturday, so they decided that they would meet and start working on the project.  


Chuck was silent during their whole exchange and his face had transformed from guarded to shock when he realized what they were talking about.  He spoke up for the first time, “If you want, I can bring over a copy of my thesis.”  


Charlie and Sam looked at him and he hunched his shoulders in, “I am studying the biology of angels and how they came to be.  It seems that there are a lot of similarities and differences between them, but I want to focus more on their personal and day to day interaction rather than other scientists who only study their endurance.”  
Charlie nodded and said something that Sam missed because that explained why Chuck freaked out when he learned Sam’s name.  The Winchesters are well known in the scientific community as being the best hunters because they always brought in prime specimens.  Since Chuck was from the scientific community it explains why he was so scared and then shocked when he realized that Sam was against hunting.  


Sam’s phone went off after glancing down to read the message he realized how late it was and that Jess was already at home.  He rushed to pack all this stuff away and gave a hurried goodbye after scrawling his number on a spare scrap of paper.  


The rest of the week passed in a blur of assigned readings and reflection papers and suddenly it was Saturday morning.  Jess had already left for clinical and Sam was straightening the front room.  Their apartment wasn’t large, but it was cozy.  The one bedroom apartment was big enough for the two of them.  There was a kitchen that usually remained unused since Sam had a tendency to burn everything.  It was usually Dean who always cooked his meals, even when they stayed at Bobby’s.  Jess on the other hand preferred to eat out instead of in.  


There were bookshelves that lined one of the walls that were filled to the brim with a mixture of their books and reading material.  Jess and Sam moved in together after their first year.  It was a sensible thing to do, they were already dating and it made more sense to live together and share the expenses than to remain on campus.  
There was a buzz from the door signifying that Charlie and Chuck were here.  Chuck didn’t drive so Charlie picked him up before she made her way over because he lived on the way.  Sam opened the door and found Kevin Tran instead.  


Kevin was a smart kid who usually worked with Jess.  He was in advanced placement.  Frankly, he was just a kid.  A few years younger than Sam, but it seemed like he was so innocent compared to Sam and the lifestyle that he used to lead.  


“Hey Kevin, how are you?” Sam asked as he stepped out of the way for him to step in.  


“I’m good Sam.  I am sorry to show up like this but I was talking to Jess and she told me what you were going to do today and I was wondering if you needed any help.”  Sam frowned he had talked to Jess about what he wanted to do since they didn’t keep secrets from one another, well considering the fact that she knows nothing about how Sam grew up aside.  They usually told each other everything.  She must have forgotten to let him know that Kevin was interested.     


“Sure Kevin, but I really don’t know what you could help with.  Aren’t you a music major?” Sam asked.  Kevin was a beautiful musician who played many different instruments, but his passion fell in the cello.  Kevin was at Stanford because his mother suggested that he take classes to become a doctor and that was how he met Jess.    
Kevin shook back his too long bangs and his chocolate brown eyes looked earnestly into Sam’s “I am going to tell you something, not a lot of people know about it so yeah, I uh, I can read Enochian.”  


Sam paused and considered his next words carefully, “How exactly do you know Enochian Kevin?”  


“I was really bullied as a kid.  You know how it is, smart Asian kid with no dad and a scary mom so my mom pulled me out of school for a while and taught me at home.  We moved from Michigan and went to Oregon and there was an angel that lived in the forest behind our cabin.  We couldn’t understand one another so I went online and looked up stuff and brought it back to him to see if he could understand it.  That was how he taught me his language.  I might not be really fluent in it, but I can get my point across.” Kevin finished lamely.  


Sam gaped at him and then shook his head, “Alright, that works.  We are just waiting one two people.” as soon as the words left his lips the door buzzed again.  
Chuck and Charlie entered.  After the introductions were made they all sat down and to come up with what they wanted to do exactly.  They spent the day coming up with lists of what they wanted the website to do.  Soon the hours flew by and Jess returned from the hospital and after a quick kiss she grabbed a pile of papers to read through while Sam called in an order of pizza.  They ate and then everyone went home.    


The next day was spent doing the same thing.  It took them nearly a month, squeezing in meetings between classes, work, and other responsibilities.  They had finalized the name of the site after an explosive argument between Charlie and Kevin.  Eventually their online campaign was titled Free to Fly.    
The site contained information that was easy to read and follow.  They had struggled with two things, the first being putting their name on the site and the other whether there should be a page dedicated to people talking about their encounters with angels.  


At the end of the day they decided to leave their names out of it and use pseudonyms instead.  The five of them had honestly thought that there wouldn’t be a large following.  Sam would check in with Charlie every week and learn that there were more and more people going to the website.  It was actually starting to gain a following and it was even mentioned in the news a few times.  


Sam didn’t pay any mind to what was going on and instead focused on his classes.  He was buried under an obscene amount of ready and papers.  Sam was able to stay abreast with all the assignments and it caused his instructors to notice him and he found himself meeting with his instructors after class and talking about angels and their treatment from different lenses.    


Sam was on his way to meet with his Philosophy instructor when a perky woman suddenly stopped in front of him.  It caused Sam to nearly stumble but he was able to right himself as he frowned down at her.  She looked vaguely familiar but Sam couldn’t place her.  She had dark brown hair that was pulled back in a ponytail that women made look messy but actually took an hour to achieve.  That was something that Sam learned from living with Jess.  
She was very short, she only reached to his shoulder, but she had a presence that actually filled in the space around her and made her seem like she was bigger than her slim frame allowed for.    


“Sam, Sam Winchester?” She asked as she put a restraining hand on his chest.  It quickly turned into petting as she exclaimed, “Wow, you sure do have a lot of muscle.”  


Sam stiffened and frowned, who the heck was this chick and why was she, yep she was actually stroking his chest.  Sam took a huge step backwards and was a little sorry when she stumbled, “Who are you?”   


She smiled after righting herself, “Oh, little old me? My name is Becky Rosen and I’m with the Tribune and I was wondering if you would be willing to do an interview with me?”   


“No.” Sam said.  He wasn’t about to have his words twisted around by some creepy chick.  He didn’t even know why she would want to interview him. They never used their real names on the site.  


“Please?” she asked.  


Sam squinted his eyes, “What would you want to interview me for? I am just a lowly college student trying to make ends meet and graduate.”  


Her smile turned a little predatory, “Sammy, sweetheart, I know that you’re the brains behind Free to Fly.”  


Sam paled and she continued, “I just want one interview with you.  One hour.  That’s it.  My boss will pay whatever amount you want.  I was the only one so far that figured out it was you.”  


Sam started to shake his head, when she interrupted him again, “Please take my card,” she pulled as slim white card with her name and number on it and handed it to him, “and call me when you come to a decision.”  


He found himself reluctantly taking the card from her and she turned around and left. The clipping echo of her heels haunted Sam for the rest of the day.  


She basically had threatened to tell other news stations that he was the mind behind Free to Fly and while they weren’t necessarily doing anything illegal, there were still large corporations similar to Roman Enterprise who make their living off of studying angels.    


Roman Enterprise is the largest corporation in the world that studies angels.  They made their fortune off of their questionable studies.  It is lead by Richard Roman who actually prefers to be called Dick.  He truly is one too.  Every time Sam sees him on screen Sam shivers.  His smile was too wide and too white.  His suits were always tasteful yet lacked anything that would make him seem personable.  His hair was constantly impeccably styled and when he spoke for some reason everyone listened.    
He pays millions to lobbyists so that they can keep the government from giving angels any type of rights or freedoms.  His home base was actually in Chicago, but he has centers that receive captured angels in nearly every state.  The largest one was actually in Kansas, where Sam was from originally.  Dick could make living very hard on them by filing lawsuits claiming defamation.  Although Sam doesn’t remember naming him or his subsidiaries in anything they posted.  
Sam went through the motions of going to classes and mulled over the thought of using Rosen in a positive way.  Maybe they need more exposure.  They need more people to talk about angel rights and maybe Rosen is the right way to go.  


When Sam got home the first thing he did was boot up his laptop and type in Becky Rosen.  He spent the next few hours reading every article she has ever written.  He noticed that everything she wrote showed two sides instead of only one. Her work was well thought out and very informative.  It didn’t focus on a single theory but rather relayed all the important points from multiple theories and gave the reader the tools to make their own decisions and choices.  She would definitely be an asset to their cause.  
Jess came home and they were having dinner together when he brought up Rosen, “She wants to interview me about Free to Fly.” Sam ended as he told her about his odd encounter with the little woman.  


Jess was still chuckling from the look of pure horror that had crossed his face when he told her that she actually petted him when she replied, “I don’t know Sam.  I think that you might have to talk to everyone before you tell her what you want to do.”  


Sam nodded, “I looked at her work and she’s pretty good.  She doesn’t pick a side, she lets her readers choose for themselves, but what if there are more people that are against angel rights than there are people for it.”   


“Sam,” Jess reached across and lightly took his hand, “you can’t think like that.  There are a lot of bigots out there and you need to realize that you can’t change everyone.”  She leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead and rose.  


Sam watched her walk away and wondered how he ever got to be so lucky.  He stayed up a little later than Jess looking into more of Rosen’s work.  He finally decided that in the morning he would call everyone and explain what happened.  When Sam slipped into the bed and curled himself around Jess he felt both content and unhappy at the same time.  He was with a woman he loved, but he left behind a family.     


The next morning Sam called Charlie, Chuck and Kevin.  He told them about Rosen and his decision.  Their reactions were varied, but in the end they agreed.  Charlie suggested that he also record the conversation so that everyone else can hear what was said.  Chuck stated that he should meet here somewhere neutral in order to be safe and Kevin told them about a small coffee house at the edge of campus.  


Sam sat in the coffee house and took out his phone. He pulled out the card and placed it next to the phone on the table.  It was at a time like this when Sam wanted his brother’s advice.  Sam already knows that Dean would be against everything that Free to Fly stands for, but he wonders if he would actually support his cause.  Sam remembers that night a few years ago when he helped the angels that dad had been hunting.  It was at that moment that Sam realized it was what he wanted to do in life as well as the fact that there was more to his brother than met the eye.  


Finally Sam dialed the number and Rosen answered, “Meet me at the Laughing Bean on Main and State in twenty minutes for your interview.  If you aren’t here I’m leaving.” and Sam hung up the phone.  


He rose and grabbed a cup of coffee and by the time he sat back down the door opened revealing a frazzled Rosen.  Her hair was windblown and sticking in different directions.  She paused, smoothed it back and made her way over to Sam.  She sat down in the seat across from him.  


Sam pressed the record button for the recorder that was hidden in his pocket as Rosen pulled out a notebook and her own recorder seemingly from nowhere.  


They spent the next sixty minutes talking.  Rosen would ask a question and Sam would respond with short clipped answers.  Afterward they shook hands but Sam gripped hers before she could let go, “Please I only ask that you don’t fill the article with propaganda and the actual truth.”  
She smiled at him and nodded.  


Sam watched her as she left and went back to his life.  He bought the paper every day for the next two weeks and there was not a single article about their conversation.  
Finally, nearly a month afterward Sam gets a call from Rosen, “Hello Sam, it’s Becky Rosen, I was just calling to ask you if you wanted to review the article before I turned it into my boss.”  


Sam was shocked and he stuttered his reply.  


They met at the same coffee shop and he read the article and deemed it well written.  He shook hands with Rosen again and they went their separate ways.  


The article was published in the next days’ paper and Sam bought it.  He showed everyone and they celebrated a job well done.  


It was Friday night, a few days after the articles publication when it happened.  


The buzzer sounded at three in the morning.  Sam asked Jess to stay back and he grabbed the baseball bat from the closet.  He slowly walked toward the door, the years of defensive training shined in his stance.   The way he tightly gripped the bat.  The way he braced for a fight.  


Sam gripped the bat in one hand and pressed his back against the wall near the door.  He opened it slowly and prepared to swing.  All the air rushed out of his system when he pulled back and actually looked at this late night visitor.  


He was clad in jeans and combat boots.  His blonde hair was cropped short but styled in the front.  He had filled out more in the past two years.  His shoulders strained against the leather jacket that he was wrapped in.    


Green eyes were the last thing Sam took in before a fist came flying out and connecting with his mouth.  
Yep, that was his brother all right.  Dean Winchester was a shoot first and ask questions later type of person.    


Dean was here. 

In California and he was mad.  


Fuck his face hurt.

It was the same Dean that Sam hasn’t spoken to in two years.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, subscribe, leave kudos, whatever it is. It really keeps me going! I am also super excited because I have a job interview today. I wanted to post this chapter before getting ready.


	3. Rescue Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, so I'm sorry that I'm late, but I had a lot going on this week. I'll give a more detailed explanation at the end of the chapter. Also, I'll make the needed corrections when I get my hands on a computer because I'm actually using my phone so let's see how this goes.

Dean was in New Mexico when it happened. He was perfectly content to wander around with nothing to do. Nothing but the sound of the road singing beneath the Impala’s wheels and the open road stretched out as far as the eye can see, but sadly that wasn’t what fate wanted.

Two years have passed and not a single word from Sam and suddenly Dean’s eating at some diner in the middle of New Mexico when he hears his brother’s name uttered from a stranger's’ lips.

Dean was halfway through the bacon cheeseburger when he overheard two women talking rather loudly. At first their conversation had been annoying, so Dean tuned them out. It was only years of training while being a hunter that had his ears paying attention for any kind of information that people inadvertently spill.

The two women looked like they were related. The older one wore a three-piece pants suit that was a charcoal gray and she matched it with a lilac blouse. The jacket was hanging off of the edge of her chair. The younger one wore a simple green tee with a pair of light wash jeans that almost looked white.

Dean tilted his head back and closed his eyes so that it would seem like he wasn’t paying them any attention and listened, “I’m telling you Sarah, the article was very informative. Why would we treat angels in such a horrible way? I mean, literally, pets have more rights than they do. I mean it’s not like a dog can talk, but if you treat them bad all of a sudden you’re facing jail time.” The voice sounded young which meant that it had to be the younger woman.

Sarah, Dean assumed, sighed, “Joan, really I get it. I know that you don’t like how angels are treated and that you’re going to school and all that but to be honest, angels are animals.”

The younger woman groaned, “How much of that is what you actually believe and not what someone else has told you?” Joan asked.

Dean blinked his eyes open and glanced over when he heard the sound of paper unfolding. Joan was unfolding something that looked like a newspaper article.

She began to read, “ _‘Sam Winchester an up and coming student at Stanford University is the brains behind the website ‘Free to Fly’ which has been gaining national attention which asks for the release of all angels and takes it a step further. ‘Free to Fly’ asks that angels be given the same civil rights as humans. When I sat down with Mr. Winchester he stated, ‘The media plays a large role in perpetuating stereotypes when it comes to the angel species. In films angels are oftentimes presented as the antagonist which skews the public’s view.’_ See, I mean really Sarah?” Joan exclaimed.

Dean was frozen in shock listening to the little excerpt that was read. It definitely sounded like his little brother, that was sure. Dean had no idea that he was the center of the debate when it came to angel rights. Hell he even started a website that was apparently popular. Dean didn’t even try to disguise the fact that he was listening and he looked directly at the women. They were finishing up their lunch.

Sarah, the older one pulled out money from her purse and tossed it onto the table before looking up and saying, “Joan, I get it. I know that you want to be able to do something to help them, but I work at a hospital. You know I am the head of medicine at Saint Victor Hospital and Medicine. I have witnessed, first hand how similar to animals angels actually are. I have seen how dangerous they can be.”

“Sarah, listen to me, I know that I can’t change your mind, but how many times did the angel attack first?” Joan counter argued.

Sarah paused and Joan used the silence to continue, “Please Sarah, just look it up. You don’t have to agree with me. Just give the site a chance.”

Dean quickly turned away when both women rose and he watched them as they left. Their conversation whirled in his mind as he watched both women pass by his booth. Sammy, his own brother was bringing attention to himself and he knows the kind of lifestyle that Dean and their dad lead. Why would he do that? Why wouldn’t he call or text Dean and ask him for his opinion? Does he really think that Dean is so horrible? Does Sammy dislike the hunter community that much? Does Sammy realize that by creating that website he essentially ostracized his brother and father? Dean is a hunter. Always has been always will be. Being a hunter is the only thing he knows.

Dean waited patiently for both women to exit the diner and he slipped a twenty on the table. It was enough to cover the food and give the waitress a generous tip. He rose and noticed that the woman had forgotten the article on the table. He slipped the article into his pocket as he walked by the table on his way out the door.

Dean slid into the driver’s seat and took a deep breath before he looked around and took out the article.

The article was written by someone named Becky Rosen. There was a small image of a woman with a light complexion and dark hair.

The title of the article was “Angel Rights?”

The article read:

_Since the discovery of the angel species more than fifty years ago there have been many individuals for and against the desegregation of angels and humans. In other words there are people who want angels to be given the same rights and freedoms as humans while others don’t. This article will present both sides of the issue and leave the decision to the reader._

_Firstly let us go back to the late forties when angels were first discovered. It was apparent very early that their discovery was not premeditated. As soon as they were discovered by Paul Philip the scientific world exploded with studies that looked at not just the communities the angels created, but their biological data._

_What made angels so different? Where did the gene for wings come from? It opened a door for scientific and cultural studies into subjects that virtually nothing was known about._

_It seems that a specific website has been on everyone’s mind lately. ‘Free to Fly’ has gained an enormous following with followers adding their own personal stories when it comes to interactions between both species. The followers are all anonymous and many of them have dubbed themselves as having ‘Underground Wings.’_

_While what they are doing is not technically illegal there are many agencies looking into these online testimonies. I was able to reach Dick Roman of Roman Enterprise and ask him how he felt about the website, Roman stated, “While the idea behind the website is a cute one, everyone knows how dangerous angels are. There are many instances where my scientists have been injured by these wayward wings. I don’t see the government ever allowing them to be treated as actual citizens. How would they assimilate to society when they can’t even speak the same language? This little website will blow over soon enough, I am not really all that worried about it. ‘Free to Fly’ has freedom of speech as does every other citizen in the United States, they are free to state their small minded and underdeveloped opinions.”_

_Although his statement was long winded, Roman made a good point. Frequently whenever angels are being discussed it is because of how dangerous they are._

_‘Free to Fly’ has not commented on these issues publicly until I was able to track down the creator. Sam Winchester an up and coming student at Stanford University is the brains behind the website ‘Free to Fly’ which has been gaining national attention which asks for the release of all angels and takes it a step further._

_‘Free to Fly’ asks that angels be given the same civil rights as humans._

_When I sat down with Mr. Winchester he stated, “The media plays a large role in perpetuating stereotypes when it comes to the angel species. In films angels are oftentimes presented as the antagonist which skews the public’s view.”_

_There you have it. I have given you the tools that you need in order to form an opinion and now it’s your job to use these tools._

Dean had a number of emotions run through him as he read the article. As he began reading the article he couldn’t get past the hurt that had bloomed in his chest. When he read Roman’s statement he felt a flare of rage that did nothing but simmer as he read the guys statement. Pride soon rushed in a cooled the fire of his temper when he read what Sammy did. How well he is doing at Stanford. Dean always knew that kid was smart which was why he encouraged him to study more when they were younger. Dean knew that he was a fuck up and that the apple pie life wasn’t for him. He wont get to find a nice girl, or guy, Dean doesn’t judge, to settle down with. He was a hunter and he was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to make it to his late thirties.

Dean swallowed as he remembered all the times that Sammy would challenge their dad when it came to angel rights and the treatment of the angel community. Dean didn’t care for how some of the other hunters treated the angels that they captured. Dean knew that there were hunters who truly horrible, for example Dean has heard of some that actually rape and abuse the angels that they capture. There have been instances where the angel that was captured doesn’t reach the intake facility alive. He shudders when he remembers those times.

Dean never mistreated an angel in such a manner. Hell, half the time Dean spends more time trying not to get hurt than actually capturing an angel. His father on the other hand has always captured one, but the difference between his dad and the other hunters is that dad uses a tranquilizer gun to subdue the angels. He doesn’t relish in hurting them even though he has every right since it was angels that killed the love of his life Mary.

Thinking about their dad made Dean realize that he hasn’t heard from him in nearly three months. They had gotten into a huge argument after he basically threw out Sam when he went to Stanford. After that argument their relationship became strained. Dean accused John of being a horrible father that literally only thought of himself and not the ones that he was supposed to take care of. John placed the responsibility of taking care of Sam when he could barely count.  
Dean spent his entire life making sure that Sam had everything and wanted nothing. Hell, Dean even stole food so that Sammy would have enough food to eat. There was nothing that Dean didn’t do to make sure that Sam was fed and happy. He even turned tricks when he was in his early teens. Dad had found out one night when he came to whatever seedy motel they were staying at. He had came home flush with roughly seven hundred dollars. Dean thinks that it was New York to be honest. The reason for that is because it had been surprisingly easy to find someone looking for a babyfaced teen who could suck cock like a pro.

Dean wasn’t ashamed of what he did to make his brother happy. Dean cheated, stole, conned, and whatever else was needed in order for the two of them to survive. After dad caught him slipping into the apartment at sunrise he ripped Dean a new one for leaving Sam alone at which he responded with having to make money in order to do his job.  
Dean doesn’t regret the things he has done for his little brother. He even drives down to Sam’s little apartment every few months, breaks in and leaves money for him. Yeah Dean is a bit of a dick for doing that, but at one point he had entertained the idea of staying and talking with Sam. Once Dean entered the apartment he realized that there was a girl that lived with him. Dean had only seen her in the pictures that littered the apartment of the two of them being a couple.  
The thing is that the pimple faced dweeb was constantly either growing or eating. He went through clothes faster than Dean had at his age. The last time Dean saw Sam, the little shit was actually taller than him. He hopes that he didn’t grow anymore because that would suck. A small smile graced his lips as he wonders if he still has long hair.

Dean looked over to the passenger seat next to him that was empty and let his arm fall limply against the bench. His eyes flicked down to the article that was clutched in a too tight grip in his hand. All of a sudden he felt the flames of anger begin to rise and he crumpled the delicate paper into a ball and threw it against the windshield. He slid the key into the ignition and with a practiced turn of his wrist the car started and he was tearing down the highway in the direction of Sam.

Dean looked at the time and calculated the number of hours he would be driving and the closer he got to Sam to angrier he became. How in the living fuck could Sam be so stupid? Why would the dumb little shit put himself and everyone connected to the Winchester’s in so much danger. Everyone in the hunter community knows that Roman is a real dick and that he doesn’t hold back when he comes after anyone. There is no way they will be able to get out from under his thumb unscathed.

Dean drove for a long time. He was so angry that he didn’t even play any music. He had one thing on his mind and that was getting to Sam and tearing him a new one.

The sun had set hours ago and soon Dean was parked two blocks away from Sam. Dean glanced at the clock and saw the numbers glow at him.

**2:29**

Christ it was late. Dean began to doubt coming all this way. His eyes landed on the wadded ball on the floor and he rubbed his face hard.

Dean’s bones popped as he got out of the car and stiffly made his way toward Sam. Soon he stood in front of his door.  
Dean didn’t even remember reaching the building. He lifted his arm and pounded on the door.

Dean waited.

No one answered so he kept pressing the buzzer next to the door.

There was a slight shuffling behind the door and Dean took a step back and waited for the door to open.

It was wrenched open but Sam wasn’t visible which caused Dean to smile because it meant that he remembered his training.

Never expose yourself.

Slowly Sam shifted into view and Dean looked up and up and up and goddammit the fucker was taller than him. For some reason that angered Dean even more and his fist shot out and landed a solid punch to his nose.

Blood instantly began to rush out of his nose so Dean pushed his way inside and took in his brother bent over both hands cupping his nose in a failed attempt to staunch the blood.  
His brother wore navy plaid pajama bottoms and a Stanford tee that looked worn thin from too many washes. His hair was a birds nest on top of his head and yup it was still too long.

Like an idiot the first words out of Dean’s mouth were, “What the hell were you thinking Sammy?”

Dean winced internally because really? You haven’t seen Sam in two years and the first thing you do is punch him and then yell at him.

There was a stifled giggle from behind Dean so he whirled around and realized that it was Sam’s girlfriend. She was pretty hot actually. She had blonde hair that was pulled back in a messy bun and a smurfs tee that was a few sizes too small and shorts that were a few inches too short. Dean’s eyebrow crept toward his hairline as he smirked and leered, “Well hello,”

Suddenly Sammy smacked the back of his head, “Stop perving on my girlfriend Dean.”  
Dean’s smirk grew wider and he rubbed the back of head and took a step back giving them room to stand next to each other.  
Jess pressed a wad of tissues to Sam’s nose and murmured quietly to him as she tilted his head back and looked at his face. Dean knew that he didn’t break it, but he got him pretty good.

“I thought you were a burglar Dean. Seriously? Do you not know how to call?” Sam petulantly muttered.

Dean snorted, “A burglar? Really Sam? What kind of burglar knocks and rings the bell? Do they ask permission before robbing you pansies out here?”

Sam gave Dean bitchface number seventy which stood for, really stop embarrassing me Dean.

His girlfriend laughed, “Don’t be rude Sam, introduce us.”

Dean grinned as he watched his brother stutter out introductions and Dean learned that her name was Jess. She seemed really sweet and not all that upset that Dean bursted into their home swinging.

She took one look at Dean’s face and she must have read something because all of a sudden she bursted into laughter, “Don’t worry Dean,” she stated as she walked over to the kitchen and returned with an icepack that she firmly pressed onto Sam’s nose, “I have three brother’s. I know that this is your way of telling each other that you missed each other.”

Sam huffed out a laugh and made his way to the couch. He collapsed and winced when he pressed the icepack back onto his nose,

“Yeah Dean, way to tell me that you missed me jerk.”

“Ha,” was the only response Dean could come up with because he really did feel bad about what he did.

“I’m going to make us some coffee because it seems like we aren’t going to get any sleep any time soon.” Jess rose and went back to the kitchen leaving both brothers to look around the room awkwardly.

Dean actually took time to take in the livingroom. It had two couches that formed an L and were pressed against the wall. There was a TV at one end of the room that was surrounded by DVD cases. The coffee table looked like it had seen better days, but it was sturdy. Pictures lined the apartment walls and Dean realized that there were no photos of Dean or the rest of Sam’s family. It made him sad to think that he doesn’t like to be reminded of the clusterfuck that was his family.

“So,” Sam began after a long drawn out silence, “I see you must have read the article then.” he said softly. Then as an afterthought he added, “Are you mad?”

Dean took a deep breath and sat next to Sam, “Yeah I’m mad Sammy, but not for what you think.”

Sam scuffs and Dean continues as if he didn’t hear him, “I’m mad because you didn’t think to call me and give me a heads up. Do you know how tricky being a hunter is going to be for us now?”

“Really, us? Dad’s still hunting then.” Sam plainly pointed out.

Dean took a deep breath to center himself, “Sam I know that you never liked hunting and that you felt a kind of special connection, but as soon as you put our name in that article it basically burned every bridge that we have--”

“Dammit Dean, you know that it’s wrong!” Sam interrupted.

“Regardless of how wrong it is Sam it’s literally the only job I have!” Dean grunted back at Sam.

Sam huffs and looks away from Dean for a second his eyes flitting around the room and never resting on anything for more than a few seconds, “I was going to call De, I just-I don’t know,” he ended with a groan.  
Dean stubbornly remained silent and Sam went on, “I didn’t think that you wanted to talk to me to be honest.”

Dean sighed, “Sammy, I would never not want to talk to you. You’re the only family I’ve got and I spent my whole life raising you,” Dean looked over to Sam, “I just, hell Sam, I’ll always be here to help. Even if I don’t agree with what your doing.”

Jess choose that moment to enter her hands holding a tray with three steaming mugs of coffee, “Oops,” she stated as she felt the tension in the room, “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but coffee’s done.”

Dean glanced at Sam silently letting him know that their conversation wasn’t over.

As soon as the tray was on the table Dean reached out and grabbed a cup and drank greedily from it. He realized that he hasn’t had anything to eat or drink since he left New Mexico. He drank his coffee and the three of them made small talk.

The sun began to rise outside and both of them bullied him into stretching out on the couch.

Soon he fell asleep.

Dean’s dream began as a swirl of color that shifted into different scenes that he has experienced in life.

It began with looking out the window at the angels.

It turned into running through different forests trying to capture angels.

Suddenly he was chasing the three angels from South Dakota.

All three turned and looked back at Dean. The moon’s glow filtered through the trees casting everything in shadows. All three angels were advancing toward Dean and he kept reaching for weapons that weren’t there.  
Suddenly he was surrounded and arms grabbed onto his shoulders. Dean struggled harder when suddenly and voice broke through the haze shouting, “Dean!”

Dean’s eyes snapped open glazed with fear and shock. Dean realized that his chest was heaving as he struggled to drag in air. His lungs felt like someone ripped the air right from the soft sponge-like tissue. His body shook violently and it was then that he realized someone was holding him down. Dean let his head thump onto the floor and tapped the floor twice.

The weight lifted off and Dean groaned as he pulled himself back onto the couch. He rubbed his face and slowly let his hands slip into his lap. Dean hasn’t had a nightmare that bad in nearly a year. He spent the first few months after Sam left on a diet of whiskey and coffee. Thinking of Sam made everything come rushing back and he realized that he was in Sam’s apartment in Pal Alto California.  
Dean looked around and blinked when he noticed that he wasn’t alone. Oh yeah, the weight that held him down. Sam was crouched in front of him, his lips moving but Dean didn’t hear anything. A woman with red hair and a Harry Potter tee stood a little farther back than Sam. She had a kind face and it was clouded with concern.

“Dean, are you okay?” Sam’s voice suddenly made it’s way through his daze.

Dean gave them both a shaky smile and huffs out, “Yeah, Sammy I’m fine. Stop being a bitch.”

Sam lets out a strangled noise like he smothered something that he wanted to say and shoots back, “Stop being a jerk Dean.”

Dean ignores him to look over at the red head. He shoots her a charming smile, “Well hello beautiful. A woman after my own heart, this one,” Dean pointed at Sam “made me read all the books with him when the books came out. Name’s Dean.”

She gave him a shaky smile, “Charlie, and it’s good that you read the books, did you see the movies?”

Sam groaned, “No Charlie please, don’t get him started.”

“Damn right I did.” Dean said at the same time.

Charlie laughed and walked into the kitchen.

Dean looked over to Sam and told him, “Really Sam, I’m alright. The nightmare just caught me off guard.”

Worry rolled off of Sam in waves but he nodded and rose, “Okay, Charlie came over because we have to make a few more changes to the website. Are you hungry? We can order in.”

“Nah man, give me a minute and I’ll get up and throw something together.”

“Okay.” Sam agreed.

The two of them just sat together silently. It made Dean remember all the times that Sam had to wake him from a nightmare because he was thrashing around so roughly. Dean felt guilty that he brought that responsibility back to him. It was Dean’s problem and that meant that he needed to get over it.

Dean rose and went to the bathroom. He washed his face and took care of business. Afterward he went to the kitchen and looked at what was available. It wasn’t much so Dean grabbed the cheese, butter, and bread. He rummaged a little more and found the makings for tomato soup.

As he started working on making their lunch it soothed him. The nightmare was wrestled into submission and tucked into a small corner in the back of his mind. Soon the food was finished and Sam and Charlie walked into the kitchen just as Dean was turning off the stove.

Sam handed him bowls and plates for the grilled cheese sandwiches and soup. The three of them sat together contentedly and ate.

“So you’re a hunter?” Charlie asks suddenly.  
Dean froze and he looked at her but nodded.

“Don’t you—“ she started then took a deep breath before continuing “Do you want to join our cause?”

Dean coughed because he had been in the middle of taking a sip of water, “What?”

“I mean really, it would make it easier to set up the underground network if there was a hunter on board. You know someone that knows where other hunters are and can steer them away.”

Dean gaped at her. It is true that he never really wanted to be a hunter, but he was damn good at it. In the last six months alone he turned in seven angels. The thought that he could have just turned a blind eye and let them go made his stomach roll.

“I don’t know Charlie. I just—“ Dean started.

“Dean, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to but could you think about it?”

Dean nodded again and returned to his meal. He didn’t feel like eating anymore but under Sam’s watchful eye he took another bite.  
He could join them. It would mean that he would be closer to Sam and better able to keep an eye on him. It also meant that he would be crossing a line that he honestly didn’t care for. Dean watched the three angels that night and how they comforted one another. He was still haunted sometimes by deep blue eyes that seared their way right into his soul.

Dean went back to ignoring the two of them and then Sam and Charlie started talking about their assignments for class and Dean tuned them out.

He mulled the idea over and reached for his phone. He pulled up Bobby’s number and dialed him before he could change his mind.

“What do you want?” Bobby asked, ever the picture of elegance.

“Bobby, it’s Dean.”

“You find that idjit?” he asked.

Dean choked out a laugh that caused Charlie and Sam to look at him from the sink. Dean had cooked so they had to clean, “Yeah I did. I take it you read the article?”

“Yeah I did,” Bobby sighed, “I always knew that boy would get himself into trouble but I don’t think that’s what he’s tryna do. He makes a good point and this Rosen woman seems to be clean.”

Dean nodded along with everything Bobby said, “Yeah,” Dean rose and walked back into the living room, “they uh-they asked me to join.”

There was silence on the other end, “And whatdya tell them?”

“Nothin’ yet. Wanted to see what you thought first.”

“I’ve been a hunter for a long time Dean, but it never felt right chasing down angels.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked.

“Yeah.” Bobby confirmed.

After a few minutes of talking they agreed that Dean would leave Sam there to finish classes and Dean would go home to put together a plan with Bobby about contacting other hunters.

Dean hung up and walked back into the kitchen. The two of them were back at the table with laptops open and glowing in front of them.

Dean tapped the door frame to get their attention, “I’m gonna shower and head out.”  
Sam’s face fell but Dean continued, “I’m gonna go to Bobby’s and we are gonna start putting together routes.

Huge grins flashed at him as he turned around.

Dean showered, dressed and searched out Sam. They hugged and surprisingly Charlie gave him a hug as well. Dean blinked back the stinging in his eyes from the damn allergies and left.

The walk back to the Impala was quiet. It made Dean realize that it was late afternoon because it was the similar to the silence that surrounds schools before the bell rings and children pour out.

Cars line the streets in eager anticipation to pick up their children and Dean walks past them silently, his hands in his pockets.  
Dean immediately jumps on the highway and points the car toward Bobby.

* * *

Dean pulled into a ramshackle gas station and got out to pay for the gas. There was only one other car at the station during the late hour. It was a rustic sedan that had two guys standing outside of it.

Dean didn’t pay them any mind as he went in to pay. The wind blew when Dean opened the door and he caught a small snippet of their conversation.

“The trap in…caught something. We’ll head over there tonight.”

Dean paused as he realized that these two men were hunters. Slowly Dean walks over to his car and begins pumping gas while ignoring the other men.

Soon both men get into their car and drive off. Dean finishes up and pulls out behind them as well. He stays at least three or four car lengths behind them.

Dean notices the tree lines thickening and fishes out his cell phone. He punches in the number for Bobby and calls him.

The phone rang for a long time before the grumpy bastard snarls, “What do you want?”  
“Bobby, I’m following two hunters right now. Overheard them talking about a trap that was set off near by.” Dean reported.

“What’d they look like?”

Dean described the hunters, “Two males late thirties maybe early forties. One African American with a slim build while the other was Caucasian with a heavy build.”

Bobby started cursing, “The black guy is Gordon Walker, watch out for him. I hear he’s a real asshole,” Bobby paused, “I don’t know who the other guy is, but if he’s working with him be careful. Walker doesn’t have many friends because he’s bat shit crazy.”

Dean nodded as he pulled over a half a mile away from them. Dean hung up the phone with Bobby after apologizing by letting him know that he was going to be late. He watched the duo get out of the car. They spent a long time taking things out of the trunk and suddenly they took off into the woods.

Dean reached over and pulled out the gun and knife that were sitting in the glove box. He slipped out of the car and carefully made his way in the same direction.

The sky had been filled with thousands of stars earlier, but now clouds slowly crept and hid them. Only a little bit of light was able to filter through from the moon and it made the shadows darken in the forest.

Dean followed the heavy thumping footsteps of the hunters and shook his head. These two were apparently looking to die tonight. Dean can hear them than you better believe that the angels can hear them too.

Dean cut through the trees in an effort to try to reach the trap before them. He was familiar with this forest. He’d been here before on hunts with his dad.

Dean kept his attention split between carefully making his way forward and watching the treetops for evidence of angels. Oftentimes there would be a stray feather that would flutter down. The way that a person would know that it was an angel feather was by the fact that it is longer than any bird feather. Also, angel wings can range from pure white to loud obscure colors such as vibrant teal which usually only add to their beauty.

Dean finally broke through the tree line and found a clearing with an angel being held down by a heavy net. The net was wire mesh that couldn’t be comfortable. The holes were barely a quarter of an inch big. The ends were held down by heavy weights that hardly shifted as the angel struggled.

Dean crept closer because he couldn’t tell anything about the angel in the trap other than the fact that they weren’t very strong and looked really small.

Dean glanced around to make sure no one was near and growled when he noticed that it was a child angel in the trap. She hardly looked older than seven. She had red hair that was matted with a mixture of blood, mud and sweat. Even in the dim light Dean knew that she was scared because she stopped struggling when she noticed him. Her pale skin glowed in the dark night and Dean huffed a laugh.

He pressed a finger to his lips in a plea for her to keep quiet as he edged closer to the trap. He looked around the trees to make sure there wasn’t a secondary trap that could be triggered when the net is pulled off or up. Nope, there was nothing like that, these guys had to be amateurs or really stupid.

Dean pulled out his knife from the small of his back and the little angel gasped and pressed herself as far away as she could. Dean kept his finger pressed to his lips as he brought the knife closer and began cutting at the ends of the weights so that he could lift it enough for her to slip out of.

Her bright eyes flashed when she realized what he was doing and soon she was closer holding the other side of the rope taunt so that he could cut it better.  
Soon her wings were fluttering behind her and she pressed them close to her back and slowly crawled out.

Dean pulled her to the side instantly. He pushed her behind a tree when he heard the heavy footfalls of the other hunters. Dean pressed his back against the rough bark and tried to control his breathing. Hopefully they didn’t see him.

“What the fuck?” The white one said.

“Dammit, how’d that angel get out? It had to have had some help. Mark, you go that way and I’ll go left. The little shit couldn’t have gotten far.” Walker snapped.

“Yeah, look at that hole, it must be a kid. I do love me killing some little thing ain’t that right Gordon.” Mark leered.

The two men set out in different directions and Dean looked into the little angel’s eyes and pleaded silently for her to stay still. He took a step back watching her and slipped the knife back into the small of his back.

He quietly stalked Mark and as soon as he broke through the trees Dean stepped behind him and wrapped his arms around his head. He gave a sharp twist and smiled at that satisfying crunch he heard when the man’s head broke. The guy went down like a ton of bricks lacking any grace.

Dean turned back and looked at the little girl. Her eyes were really big and she was trembling. You have got to be kidding me, why was she still here. Dean made little motions for her to leave and she just gazed at him with wide eyes not understanding what he wanted her to do.

Dean took in a deep breath, he held his hands thumbs pressed together, fingers pointing outward, and made flapping motions.  
A small giggle was released and suddenly there was a strong arm cupping her face and she was jerked back.

Dean advanced because it was the other hunter. He held a gun to the little girl’s head, “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are trying to take my kill.” Gordon rasped.

“I’m not trying to take your kill.” Dean stated simply as he walked closer to them. The little girl was starting to struggle, causing Walker’s grip to slip. Soon she pulled away from him and took off into the trees.

Dean caught a glimpse of grey wings in the sky and turned all his attention to the other hunter, “I think you’re a real dick for trying to take out a little girl.”

Walker shoved Dean hard, “I ain’t a dick. I am just getting rid of a little one before she grows up and takes out an entire family.”

Dean snorts, “Really, that what you were doing?”

Walker throws a fist and Dean easily dodges it, “Seems to me like she would have gotten away regardless. You don’t know what you’re doing old man, go on get out of here.”  
Walker roared and charged Dean. He simply stepped to the side grabbed the other mans shoulder and used his own momentum to toss him to the floor effortlessly. Dean had years of military training from his dad on how to fight. This was too easy.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Walker snaps as he pulls himself off the ground.

“I’m not going to tell you again. Get out of here on your own and forget about it or,” Dean continued after pausing “you are going to never leave this forest unless it’s in a body bag.”

Suddenly there was a flash of metal and the loud boom of a gunshot. Dean dove out of the way and hid behind a tree. His heart was pounding in his ears. It mixed with the ringing from being too close to a gunshot.

Walker lunged at Dean taking him down to the ground. The both of them struggled to get on top by throwing punches. Dean felt his lip split but grunted in satisfaction when he heard the muted crunch of bone breaking when he landed a hit to Walker’s nose. A spray of blood rained down on Dean as he threw all of his weight to the side in an effort to throw off the guy.

Walker paused to pull out his gun and that is when Dean took his chance. He gave three short punches to his side causing Walker to wheeze and fall to the side. Dean got to his feet his body screaming in protest and kicked away the gun.

Dean’s breaths tore out of his body in huge gasping gulps. Maybe he needs to cut back on the pie a little. Dean braced himself on his knees and looked down on Walker when suddenly his foot kicked out and Dean leaned back too far and found himself on the ground again.

Dean cracked his head on a stone and instantly felt his vision start to darken which was a bad thing. Dean struggled to stay conscious as Walker pulled himself up and stood over Dean.

Walker started kicking at his stomach and side causing pain to completely blind his vision.

Walker pulled back his leg for another kick when Dean grabbed his foot and wrenched it to the side. Walker screamed as his ankle snapped under the strain.

His knee gave out and Dean pulled the knife from its position. He quickly drew it and slipped it between his ribs and didn’t let off the pressure until he felt the blade pierce his heart. Walker stopped struggling against Dean then and tired to draw in air.  
Dean got to his feet with his hand still wrapped around the hilt of the blade. He breathed hard feeling sweat trails down his cheeks and drips off of his chin. His eyes stung from tears and dirt they kicked up.  
When Walker stopped struggling it was only then that Dean pulled out the knife. There was a sickening squelching sound that echoed in the too quiet night.

Dean wiped the blade on his thigh and gingerly reached for the back of his head. He could feel the warm sticky sensation of blood. Dean winced while he tried to assess how much damage he endured from the fight.

As the adrenaline left his body Dean could only groan in pain. Everything hurt. Literally every bone in his body felt like it was on fire. Dean swayed as his vision started to fill with static meaning he was going to pass out.

Dean’s last thought before he hit the floor was if he was going to die out there, in a forest surrounded by nothing but death, pain, and blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay everyone so this is probably going to be a little long, but I feel like I owe you all an explanation.  
> Firstly, I started a new job on Tuesday as a paraprofessional. For those of you who do not know what that is it is a teachers aide in a classroom with students with special needs. I was out of work for three years. I found an office job but couldn't get along with the manager so they let me go after 2 months. So I got on my "game" as the cool kids call it and put in tons of applications at schools. In the span of two weeks I had four interviews and three job offers.  
> Secondly, it was also my daughter's first day in daycare, so it was a little emotional for the both of us. She's going to be three in December.  
> Thirdly, I actually beta'd Caged Bird by chamoon38 which is awesome and you all should go read it. (Not subliminal advertisement lol)  
> Fourthly, I do not own a computer.  
> Fifthly, my husband is being a douche. Soon to be happily divorced. I've endured 5 years of every single kind of abuse and I'm tired. 
> 
> Lastly I just wanted to apologize. Like I said I have a lot going on, but I do have chapter four written and five started. Hopefully I won't be late again, but if it happens please bare with me. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this stupid long end note and if you have any questions feel free to ask and remember, constructive criticism is awesome.


	4. Sleeping Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel perched at the top of a tree that overlooked the forest. The thick branch beneath him was strong enough to hold his weight. Castiel allowed his wings to flutter softly behind him before he folded them and rested his back against the trunk. He pulled his knee close to his chest and trailed his fingers through his wings as he contemplated his surroundings.  
> ***************************  
> We find out what happened to the mysterious angel's that Dean and Sam saved. We also find out who they are and a little bit about their background.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last I bring you chapter 4. I just want to apologize for taking so long, but real life really kicked me in the ass. On a happy note though, I will be buying a laptop soon so I can get back to my regular updates.   
> Thanks again for reading and as always kudos and comments are my life's blood.

Castiel perched at the top of a tree that overlooked the forest. The thick branch beneath him was strong enough to hold his weight. Castiel allowed his wings to flutter softly behind him before he folded them and rested his back against the trunk. He pulled his knee close to his chest and trailed his fingers through his wings as he contemplated his surroundings. 

Vibrant green surrounded him as far as he could see. It helped settle him. Castiel had been on edge all day. Aneal, or Anna as she likes to be called did not return last night. Worry tangled itself in his gut as he kept a sharp eye out for her. The sun had burst across the horizon an hour ago, the strong reds bleeding into orange and finally cooling into greens and blue. It meant that blood had been spilled and Castiel worried that it was Anna’s.

He knew that there was no reason for him to worry. Hunters had not been spotted in the area in a few months. Castiel frowned as he shifted to make himself more comfortable. Hunters were increasing in number. Castiel was no stranger to them or their brutality. He has come across them one to many times and often warned Anna of their cruelty. As a child though, she deems herself as being invincible.   
Hunters weren’t anything that scared Castiel, but rather worried him because oftentimes they were unpredictable. Castiel knew that he could hold his own in a fight against a hunter because he had a distinct advantage of years of combat training. 

Thinking about hunters always caused the memory of the green-eyed boy from his youth. . Castiel had been traveling with Gabriel and Samandriel when a hunter had began tracking them. The three of them had tried to lose him, but he cornered them in an abandoned building. Gabriel fought the older hunter while Castiel kept Samandriel away from them.The old hunter had been injured by Gabriel’s hand, but the two younger hunters, barely older than children had came rushing to aid the older one. Castiel was still awed by the conversation that led to the younger one’s helping Gabriel instead of their father.

As soon as Castiel laid eyes on him he had felt his heart stumble in his chest. Every other noise and sensation slipped away turning into white noise. In all his years of life Castiel had never felt anything even close to what he felt when he saw him. Dean, the little boy had called him Dean. The little boy, Castiel assumed had been a younger sibling because he instinctively protected him while they were in their presence.

It was because of that green-eyed boy that Castiel became a warrior. He never wanted to feel that helpless ever again. Castiel was angry at himself because he was essentially useless. He stood by while Gabriel fought the older hunter. He had been mesmerized by the young men because they had ran toward the sounds of fighting instead of fleeing. The determined look on their faces stayed with Castiel for a long time. Never had he seen youth so resolute. The younger child held steady as he asked Dean to help them escape instead of hinder it.

After their escape they made it safely to Lucifer’s territory. It had taken a long time for them to reach him. The three week trek to his land had been brutal and unkind. Samandriel fell ill with a fever that stubbornly remained until the healers were able to clear him of the sickness. 

Gabriel, normally a fun loving and joyous individual became closed off and curt with everyone. His main concern had been making sure they made it to Lucifer’s in one piece. Once they reached their destination, Gabriel immediately met with the other Council members and left his two younger siblings to their own accord.

Castiel spent many days watching the warriors spar in the training area. Castiel was fascinated by the warrior’s controlled movements as they sparred, at times included using their wings as weapons. One of the warriors noticed Castiel’s interest and asked him to join. 

Castiel stayed behind to train while his brothers continued visiting the other Council members. Castiel became one of the best warrior's any of the angel tribes had ever seen.   
Soon, Castiel tired of it. He felt an emptiness slowly wrap itself around his heart the longer he remained at his post. Many could not understand why, but Castiel could not watch another member of his garrison die in the fight against the humans. He didn’t want to watch another brother or sister be taken only to never be heard from again. 

Because of this, nearly three seasons ago Castiel resigned from his post. He withdrew from all of his brothers and sisters and made a home for himself here. He strayed a long way in an effort to distance himself from the silent war. He lived in human territory, but no human comes near him. 

If you look to the left far off in the distance the humans technology line their hard roads. Roads made of melted black stone. Long towers connected by dark vines that buzz if you get too close to them. Their homes made of wood and stone stacked neatly next to one another. There were little forests that line their harsh roads. Everything was close together causing Castiel to feel claustrophobic. Angels instinctively live in villages, but never so close together. During nighttime, the false suns they use to line their roads block the stars in the sky. 

Castiel chose this area because of the close proximity to humanity. It ensures him the solitude that he desperately desired. It also closed him off from some of his brothers and sisters who did not understand or agree with his decision to leave. Many soon realized that his home gave him a unique position to help fleeing angels find a safe territory. 

While he was still making his home in winter he had come across a young angel nearly starving. Anna had been the child of two angels that were captured by hunters. She had managed to escape without them knowing, but soon became wild. A wild angel is similar to the different animals that roam the forest. 

When an angel becomes wild oftentimes someone from a nearby tribe or village has to try to reason with them, but usually wild angels are either left alone to sort through their grief or offered to join their dead loved ones. It was a practice that Castiel did not agree with, but understood the reasoning behind it. With the silent war between the humans and his people they need to protect one another instead of fight amongst themselves. 

In Anna’s case it had been easier because she had been so young. There were no angels around to help train her in their ways. She had spent weeks hiding in cities watching human children with their parents. She had asked him once why the angels didn’t hunt the human’s the same way and Castiel had responded that they weren’t animals. Humans hunted angels because they were something they feared angels did not fear humans.

Castiel knows that there are other angels that would rather control the human race instead of coincide with them, but Castiel did not want that. Castiel would rather learn them in an effort to understand their actions than own them. There are even angels that hate what they are.

Castiel loves being an angel. He loves being able to feel the wind ripple through his primary and secondary feathers as he flies. He loves the sting from the wind that causes his eyes to water when he flies too fast. Castiel enjoys the feeling of freedom that comes inherently from being able to spread his wings and reach for the sky.

Humans seem to believe that all angels were related, when in fact only a few are. Gabriel, Samandriel, and Michael are his only living family. The rest of his family had been taken away by hunters either before Samandriel was born or soon after. 

Castiel views Anna as a little sister. Taking care of her has made him realize the sacrifices that his older brothers had taken to ensure he was taken care of. Granted Samandriel was his younger brother, but during Castiel’s youth he often left him to the care of one of his older siblings and spent his time playing with other angels like Balthazar. 

Castiel learned the hard way to keep close to his family after Michael was taken. That day will forever be burned into his memory. Castiel shook his head in an effort to dispel the dark turn his thoughts were taking when suddenly heard the frantic breathing and flapping of wind.

Castiel jerks to the left extending his wings for balance when he hears the fluttering of Anna’s wings.

Anna appeared before him and Castiel had to swallow before he could speak.

Castiel feels rage darken his mood when he takes in his sister's’ appearance. Her clothing was torn and stained with blood and mud. Her hair, usually completely and utterly effervescent was matted with sweat. Castiel lifted from the tree and grabbed her mid air. She wrapped her arms around him and burrowed into his chest. Her sobs tore at Castiel’s heart so he clung to her tighter as he slowly brought his wings closer to his back while he landed. 

He rubbed her back in soothing circles as he tried to keep his temper in check. She must have run into hunters. 

Anna mumbled into his chest but Castiel did not understand what she said, “What did you say Anna?” He murmured as he slowly rocked side to side in an effort to calm her.

Anna lifted her face and green eyes rimmed with red bore into Castiel’s “I said, we have to go back and get the guy.”

Castiel froze, “What do you mean Aneal? What happened?”

Her eyes lowered and she slowly slipped down his body until she shakily stood on her feet. Anna looked everywhere but at Castiel, “I was, I uh,” she stopped and pressed her lips firmly together, “I was following a baby deer big brother, and suddenly I was under this net that was heavy and it smelled so bad. I-I-went too far and got caught by two hunters.” She glanced at Castiel before her eyes quickly darted away as she continued, “It was late at night, in the quiet breath the sky takes before the sun wakes and a man came. He looked scary, but he helped me escape. He fought the other two hunters, killed one right away Cassie, and then the other one, he was mean. They fought but the guy got really hurt, but he was able to kill him. We have to go back and help him.” Aneal’s eyes finally met his and desperation rolled off of her in waves.

Castiel closed his eyes in an effort to calm himself because Aneal was still a child. She doesn’t understand the dangers that lurk behind every tree when hunters are involved. Castiel was at odds. He did not know if he wanted to help this hunter, but he knew that he could live with himself if he didn’t make an effort to ensure his home was safe.

“Anna, where did this happen?” Castiel asked.

“By the stone shaped like the moon.”

“Okay,” Castiel took a deep breath, “go to the cave and hide there. If I do not return before the sun rests I want you to find Gabriel. Do you understand Aneal?” Castiel asked using her angelic name to drive home the severity of their situation. The moonstone was not far from his home.

Anna nodded turned and ran in the direction of their cave.

Castiel reached behind his wing to ensure his blade was tucked along his spine. He felt the familiar smooth metal warmed by his skin. Quickly he spread his wings fully to prepare himself to fly. He slightly bent his knees and lifted from ground. The leaves that littered the floor fluttered and swirled from the rush wind. Castiel flew between the tops of the trees twisting with superior agility.

Soon Castiel found himself nearing the moonstone. He circled the three humans on the ground. The sun began to hide behind darkening clouds. Castiel could smell the ozone that came with the impending thunderstorm. 

All three humans remained still. Castiel slowly climbed down a tree and padded toward them. Only one of the humans had a chest that rose and fell.   
Castiel slipped his blade from between his wings and slowly crept toward the first figure. His head was tilted at an awkward angle meaning his neck broken. His lips were slack and stood starkly blue against his pale skin. His eyes were haunting, bloodshot and glistening in the light. 

Castiel moved toward the other human. He sat in a pool of blood that stained the ground and leaves. Castiel cringed when he saw the mess of tissue, muscle and adipose tissue surrounding a blade in his stomach. The sight was disturbingly familiar to animal attacks. The man’s clothing was torn and stained with congealing blood. The blood was almost indistinguishable against the man's dark complection. His face was swollen, but it could be a combination of his fight and death’s cruelty.   
Castiel stepped over him and saw the net that must have captured Anna. The closer he came to it the stronger the acrid stench of the black substance they use to capture angels. It is slippery like oil, but smells horrible. Castiel gingerly used the tip of his blade to lift the edge of the net and saw the jagged cut that was created in order for Anna to escape. 

The edges of the net were held down by smooth stones that weighed too much.

Castiel gazed in horror as he realized had she not been saved then he would have lost her forever.

There was a harsh gasp behind him and Castiel turned and gaped. It looked like the boy from years ago except he was no longer a child. He was a man. His blonde had had darkened with the years and there was dark stubble that lined his cheeks. His lips were full, but blemished from his fight.

The longer Castiel gazed at him the more he noticed his injuries. His skin was purple with bruises that ran along the side of his face. One of his eyes was completely swollen. The sickly yellow bruises standing out harshly against his alabaster skin. The closer Castiel crept toward him the more defined his features became. Freckles dotted across the top of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

Castiel knew his thoughts were dangerous. He knew that he shouldn’t look at humans in such a manner, but this one was so interesting. Castiel has always been fascinated by their culture. That was another reason why he moved so close to the humans.   
Castiel also saw the small stain of red at the base of his skull. Castiel frowned as he stepped closer, be crouched and tentatively reached out to him. His fingertips trailed feather light across his forehead and stiffened when he twitched. Castiel could also feel his skin which was too hot. 

Castiel wondered if he should save him. He wondered if he should take him home to his cave, but so many issues arise. This could be a trap. An elaborate scheme to learn about angels and then capture them all. He was a hunter. Castiel was sure of it. Although he did save Anna the same way he had saved them all those years ago.

Castiel was torn between wanting to help the stranger and leaving him. 

In the end, Castiel re-played Anna’s words. She wanted to help him. Her simplistic view on life made Castiel decide. 

Castiel bent down after tucking away his wings and blade.

Gently he lifted him. The human curled into him and Castiel felt the first drops of rain begin to fall. 

Castiel looked up at the darkening sky. The heavy odor of ozone permeated Castiel’s senses. Quickly he lept up and took flight. He flew as fast as he could and soon he saw the mountain that houses his cave. 

After tightening his grip on the unconscious man Castiel slowly began to descend near his home. He could feel small drops of water against his skin as he quickened his pace. 

Castiel’s home was a cave in the mountain. The mountain housed many different labyrinths. Castiel loved the protection that it gave him.

As he entered through the mouth of the cave everything dimmed as he walked a few feet inside. Once he made the slight right it brightened significantly. Small candles lined the room. The candles offered two services, they kept his home well lit, and the flames of the candle kept the cave at a comfortable temperature. 

Anna appeared above him. Her red hair cascading as she bent over the edge of her nest. A bright smile lit her face as she quickly descended and began pulling rugs together into a makeshift bed. She placed it near the fire pit in the middle of the cave and Castiel walked and gently laid him onto the blankets and rugs.

He pulled back and Anna smoothed some of his hair from his face, “Yes Cassie, this was the man.” She looked up and smiled at him. 

Castiel smiled back at her, “Okay Anna, but you can’t speak in English until we know that he is safe. Just because he rescued you, doesn’t mean that he is okay.”

Anna’s eyes grew wide, “I understand Cassie.” She stated in Enochian stumbling over the complex pronunciation. Anna made a face, she felt that speaking in English was easier than speaking in Enochian. Enochian is not for the faint of heart, it is a flowery language. Castiel was raised speaking it, but Anna on the other hand was raised speaking English.

Together they worked together to make the human more comfortable. Anna began boiling water for a stew and Castiel chopped vegetables. 

Castiel noticed that the human had a fever. He was still worried about Anna going outside by herself, so he readied himself to go out.

It was still raining outside so Castiel slipped on his fur coat. It was made of deer hide. The soft brown gave Castiel comfort and warmth as it kept him dry during the downpour outside. The coat was long, it fell to his knees and there were straps that clinched at his waist in order to leave room for his wings. There was a thick belt that held the folds of fabric together and small clasps on the shoulder that allowed Castiel to wear sleeves or not. The sleeves were an added benefit because he could store his blade inside the hem. 

Anna looked up at Castiel when she saw him move, “Where are you going Cassie?”

“The stream Anna, and please use Enochian.” Castiel responded with a small smile. Anna had effortlessly slipped back into English.

Anna groaned and abruptly stopped when a shrill sound came from the man. 

It was rhythmic and distantly familiar.

Castiel walked over to him and noticed the man’s right pocket glowing. Castiel frowned as he knelt next to the man. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a shaking glowing brick. The face of the object was sleek and glowed, the back of it was black. 

“What is this Anna?” Castiel asked her as he rose.

The object stopped vibrating suddenly and Castiel frowned harder.

Anna snickered, “Cassie, that’s a cell phone. It’s what the humans use to talk into when someone is far away.”

Anna was muffling small giggles as she reached for the object and showed Castiel how to use it.

“They use these small black bricks to communicate? How does the other person fit in such a small thing?” Castiel pondered.

Anna burst into laughter at Castiel who playfully swatted at her, “No Cassie,” she hiccuped in laughter, “the other person isn’t in the cell phone, they are somewhere else with another cell phone. It is how they can talk across great distances.”

Castiel glared at Anna, “How was I supposed to know that?” he grumbled.

“It’s okay Cassie, you just haven’t spent as much time as I have with the humans.” Anna responded kindly as she slipped back into english.

Castiel handed her back the black brick--no, cell phone, and ruffled her hair, “Enochian Aneal.”

“Don’t call me that.” Anna grumbled in Enochian as she tried to tame her hair.

Castiel stepped outside and immediately lifted off. The small canteen connected to his belt.

The stream cut across the forest and provided Castiel and Anna with fresh water. Quickly he filled the canteen with fresh spring water and flew back to his home. Castiel often wondered why the first angel was ever captured. Granted it was before his time, but maybe it had been a mistake. Humans constantly fear what they do not understand, and instead of bridging differences, they enslave.

Castiel has lost many to the humans, his brother Michael. He lost his parents to the this stupid silent war, but through all of that, Castiel still finds himself fascinated by them.  
He was fascinated by this boy. This man really.

Slowly Castiel dampened a cloth and began to gently clean his face. Anna was near the fire carefully slipping chopped vegetables into the broth. 

The bruises were swelling significantly and Castiel began making a medical herbal paste that would help with pain and swelling. Slowly he ground the Arnica until it was a paste. Arnica was a flower that was similar to an orange daisy. Anna helped him lift the green eyed or Freckles as Castiel decided to call him and together they took off his upper layers of clothing. Once his chest was revealed Castiel had to bite back a gasp.

His chest was riddled with bruises, cuts, and scars. Some of the scars looked old while others looked new. There was a large scar that ran from his left shoulder to the middle of his abdomen. It was pink and shiny, a new scar.

There were bruises colored a sickly yellow on his stomach. A small gash ran from the center of his forearm to his wrist. It was a thin gash, it would not require sewing. 

His ribs jutted out with every breath causing Castiel to notice the deep purple discoloration. Gently Castiel reached across and looked for broken bones. He did not find any, it seemed as if it was just severe bruising. 

There was a tattoo that Castiel knew made him a hunter. It was a five pointed star. The star was done completely in black ink. This caused Anna to tremble for a moment when she saw it. For a long time Castiel tried to explain to her the dangers of the humans, hunters especially, but she was always stubborn. This physical representation of violence. 

“Cassie…” Anna whispered.

Castiel looked at her for a moment before reaching across and pulling her into his embrace. He murmured softly to her in his mother's tongue. He softly rocked her in a poor effort to stop her trembling. She finally realized that she could have died or been taken had Freckles not saved her.

Castiel felt Anna’s tears soak into his shirt and continued to comfort her until she stopped trembling and fell asleep. Castiel rose making sure she was secure in his arms and gently placed her in her nest.

She whined softly for a moment then settled back into sleep. Castiel let out a sigh of relief. He turned back just in time to see the soup boil over.

Castiel let out a string of courses and rushed to the soup after snatching the pot holders. He carefully lifted it off of the flame. The soup did not smell burned, but none the less Castiel set it down.

He used the long wooden spoon that he made. The handle was strong and it widened and rounded at the tip. Slowly he stirred the soup and tasted it. He cringed at the fact that it tasted like boiled vegetables. He rose and uncovered the spices.

After seasoning the soup Castiel placed it onto the flame again, this time making sure that it was low. He rose and turned back to Freckles.

Castiel felt his brow and frowned. He was very warm. There was a faint flush to his skin. Castiel soaked another cloth in the cool river water and placed it on his brow as he continued to tend to his wounds.

When Castiel was a warrior he learned how to tend to the wounded. He slowly continued to wipe Freckles body down as he assessed his wounds.

When he finished with his upper body Castiel found himself at the edge of his pants. They were slung low on his hips but held together with a belt. 

Castiel felt a warmth bloom in his chest that he tried to smother. Slowly he reached and unbuckled the belt. He undid the button and slipped down the zipper. Castiel sighed in relief when he noticed that Freckles wore shorts under his pants. 

The pants were an interesting material. They were tough and soft at the same time. The shade of blue was tinted brown somehow. There were pockets built into the side and the back. Jeans, Castiel thinks they are called jeans. What Castiel did not understand was why there were shorts underneath the jeans. 

It seemed as if it was too much material for covering such a private area. Castiel flushed when he realized he was thinking about the man’s private. He pulled down the jeans with a little more roughness than he intended. He paused when he saw his shoes. They were thick and did not look comfortable at all. Castiel pulled them off and placed them neatly to the side. He noticed that there was a stiffness under one of his legs. 

Castiel tugged off the jeans completely and paused. 

There were scars that ran down his leg. They began from under the shorts and ran down his left thigh and stopped just over his knee. The scars were old. It looked like a burn scar. A large one at that. The scars did not look deep, but they confused Castiel. How would he get something like that? 

Castiel shook his head and continued to survey the bruises that littered Freckles.

When he was satisfied that there was no more bruising or swelling that needed the herbal paste Castiel rose. He rinsed his hands and went back to the soup. 

The aroma of spices and vegetables permeated the cave.

Castiel heard Anna shift in her nest and went to her.

“Hey Anna,”Castiel whispered when she opened her eyes and looked at him, “I need you to go to the sister cave and wash up. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Anna blinked her big eyes at him and nodded. Castiel helped her down. He watched as she gathered clothes for her bath and left the cave.

When Castiel explored the mountain he found a cave with fresh water that drained into nearby trees. The water gathers during rainstorms and slowly drips into a basin. The cave floor is angled slightly which causes the water to run down the mountain until it reaches the trees. 

After Anna left Castiel looked back at his guest. He noticed that the cloth had began to dry. Castiel dampened it again and rose to bring bowls and bread.

The bowl Castiel carved from wood much like his stirring spoon. He found that he actually liked how they looked versus the steel ones his brothers and sisters use.

It also meant that he constantly had to make them, but Castiel enjoyed the feeling of the wood grain against his fingertips.

Castiel poured three bowls of soup and warmed the flat bread he had made two days ago in the fire.

The annoying black brick began to make noise. Castiel ignored it as best as he could. Anna had left it near Freckles and Castiel watched horrified as he began to stir. The awful sound stopped suddenly causing both Castiel and his guest to relax. 

Castiel walked back outside of his cave and looked at the forest below. The clouds had darkened significantly from this morning. The sun was completely hidden by them. The odor of ozone was thick in the air and Castiel took a deep breath.  
He knew that he had to take the human back to his society, but he just wanted to talk to him. Castiel wanted to show his gratitude by helping him get better. Freckles saved Anna from torture and death. The heavy scent of the black oil that lined the net came to mind and Castiel could taste it on the back of his tongue. 

A twig snapped to his right and Castiel looked over in time to see Anna walking toward him. She wore a dress made of cotton. It was dyed a deep blue along the collar and faded the length of her dress. The dress had no sleeves, but it fell to her ankles. The top of the dress was a series of overlapping scraps of fabric that formed a halter and helped protect the base of her wings.

Castiel smiled at her when he noticed that she tamed her hair by pulling it back into a long braid that fell between her wings.

“Anna you look beautiful.” Castiel told her.

She smiled and nodded as she continued walking toward him. Together they entered the cave. 

Castiel groaned when he heard the black brick began to sing again. This time though there was a gruff grunt and a deep, “What the hell is it?”

Castiel and Anna had quietly entered the main room at this point and watched.

Freckles was still on his back, his eyes were still closed, but the black brick was pressed to his ear. There was another voice, but it was too low to understand.   
Suddenly three things happened at once.

Anna vibrated with excitement and blurted, “Look Cassie it’s awake!”

Freckles eye quickly opened and he jerked up and immediately groaned in pain.

Anna realized her mistake and placed two hands on her mouth in a childish effort to stop any more words from escaping.

Castiel sighed and closed his eyes. Anna just blurted in English essentially letting the human know that they spoke english. 

Freckles eyes were wide as he gaped at the two of them. The black brick was shouting, and there was a constant beeping and suddenly, “Shit, they speak English!” he cried out incredulously. 

The black brick finally stopped beeping and slowly dimmed.

It felt like Castiel’s solitude. He knew that there would be consequences. The question was, did he care?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I can get another chapter out in the next two weeks, but until then, enjoy this one and I am sooooo sorry about the cliffhanger...  
> Sorta. *hides in corner*


	5. Creating Alliances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas froze and looked at Dean and he really looked at him. Dean didn’t know what he saw on his face, but Cas suddenly had slightly flushed cheeks, “I-I apologize,” he began “I was not aware of your fear of flying.”
> 
> Dean glared at him, “I am not afraid of flying, it’s just unnatural.”
> 
> Cas raised his eyebrow, “To you maybe."

Dean was floating.  He felt safe and warm.  He was surrounded by the scents of ozone and pine needles.  Dean felt so comfortable and rested.  He couldn’t remember the last time that he was this relaxed.

Dean floated between waking up and falling back into a restful sleep.  His mind was slightly numbed, but the good kind.  The kind where you knew that you would feel good regardless of waking up or going back to bed.

Dean knew that he had to wake up though.  There was a thought at the edge of his consciousness that kept calling out to him past the pleasant haze.  Telling him that he needed to wake up.  His hunter instincts won out in the end.

The closer he came to waking the more he noticed his surroundings.  It started with himself.  His body ached.  There was a sharp pain in his chest that stabbed every time he took a breath.  His head ached.  His mouth tasted like cotton balls.  It felt like a really bad hangover.  

Suddenly the shrill sound of his phone broke the peace and silence that he was in.  Blindly he groped in the general direction of the damn thing.  Finally his hands closed over it and he swiped his finger across to answer it.

“What the hell is it?” he snapped.  Dean frowned because his throat felt like he had swallowed fistfuls of broken glass.  Every single word hurt to speak.  He coughed to try to clear it.  That didn’t work.  His voice rough with sleep.  

“Dean where the hell have you been?  I’ve been calling your ass all day! What in gods green earth happened last night?” Bobby demanded.

“What the he---” Dean began when everything came back to him.  That constant nagging that had bothered him suddenly returned in full force.  He remembered the little child angel and saving her.  He remembered killing the first guy and then fighting Gordon.

Suddenly two things happened at the same time.  Bobby’s voice yelled at him for not answering his damn phone and a child’s voice mentioned him being awake.

Dean’s eyes snapped open and he jerked up.  He let out a loud groan of pain because his body protested the sudden movement.  Dean gaped at the two angels that stood in the mouth of the cave.

Cave? When the hell did he get to a cave?

Bobby was still yelling at him and Dean blurted the only thing that was playing on repeat in his head, “They speak English! What the fuck! Bobby they speak English!”

His phone suddenly stopped beeping and died because of course it wasn’t fully charged.  It was both a blessing and a curse because now he had no form of communication and he was in the presence of not one, but two angels.

Dean tried to discreetly look for a weapon by feeling around himself as he took in his surroundings.  

The child that had spoken was the same little girl that he had rescued.  Her hair was pulled back and she wore a flowing gown.  Her red hair glinted in the dim cave.  

The second angel though.  He seemed vaguely familiar.  Dean dragged his eyes up and down his body trying to remember what it was that made him so familiar.

When Dean looked at his raven black wings wrapped protectively around the little girl he remembered. He was the same angel from a few years ago when he and Sam had helped them escape from their dad.

He didn’t look like a scrawny teenager any more.  He filled out.  He wore some type of leather that both covered him and left a lot to his imagination.  There were tattoos that crawled up his arms from his wrists to his shoulders.  They were black and looked like black squiggles but must have some type of meaning because the lines varied in thickness and seemed to be patterned.

He wore trousers that had seen better days, but still looked clean.  The shirt he wore was leather and had no sleeves.  It looked liked deer leather because it was a soft brown color that accented his skin tone.

Dean paused and frowned even harder at himself, that sounded like something Sam would say.  When the hell did Dean grow a uterus?  Moving on then.

His hair looked almost exactly the same.  It stuck out wildly in different directions.  It was strangely the same color as his wings.  His wings were completely impressive.  They rose from his back and were huge.  They looked like they were about eight feet long, his wingspan had to be somewhere between eighteen to twenty feet.  

Dean finally tore his eyes away from the angels and looked around.  

The cave looked comfortable.  Rugs and furs lined the walls. The furs looked like a mixture of different animals.  Dean was able to make out the deer, bear, and elk pelts.  The rugs looked like a mixture of string and a material that he couldn’t identify.  The rugs had different shapes on them and if Dean didn’t know any better they seemed to be in Enochian.

There was a huge fire pit in the center of the cave that kept everything at a nice temperature.  The fire pit was lined with stones that were charred on the inside closer to the fire and ivory on the side that faced the outside.  The fire pit wasn’t overly large, but neither was it small either.  There were metal grate that lined the entire pit like a grills cage.  There was also a long metal bar that had a hook at the end that swiveled from over the pit and to the side.  It looked like something that was used a long time ago to cook over open flames.  

Dean was resting in a bed of blankets and rugs.  They were softer than any bed he had ever slept in.  

Although the cave was dimly lit, the darkness wasn’t oppressing.  It matched the atmosphere. Well lived in.  It felt like a home even though it was in a cave.

The floor looked soft and clean at the same time even though it a dirt floor with spots of stone.  There were rugs that led to the fire pit and to the door, is it mouth? Dean shook his head to clear his silly thought and tried to focus on the situation.

He was in deep shit.

He woke up in a cave surrounded by angels.

Granted they didn’t look that dangerous, but angels are known for being in groups that usually have ten to fifteen angels at once. Who knows how many are hiding in other pockets of the cave or even outside.

Dean’s phone died as well which means he has no way of anyone tracking him or ever finding him because he knows damn well no one is going to go look for him in a damn cave.

Dean drew in a deep breath and smelled heaven.  That’s strange, usually he only thought with his stomach, but this time he actually used his brain.

Dean drew in another breath and took in the smell of cooked vegetables and spices.  It must be the reason he keeps thinking of home.  Dean has been on the road longer than he’s ever lived in a home.  Ever since his mother died twenty years earlier.

Dean felt strangely safe even though he knew that he should be on guard.  It has just been so long since he has been able to just sit back a be.  So long since he has had to worry about everything that he just wanted to not have to worry about everything.

He tugged the blankets until they covered his shoulder and that was when he realized that he was nearly naked.  Dean remembered wearing clothes earlier.  They must have stripped him either to clean his wounds or to make sure his ass isn’t going anywhere.  

“Are you okay mister?” came a high pitched girls voice.

He looked over and saw the strawberry haired girl he rescued.

He didn’t know how to respond when suddenly the blue-eyed-angel growled out something in Enochian to the girl and she grinned and muttered something back to him.

Even at his distance and in a language he didn’t understand Dean knew she said something smart and sassy to him.

Blue eyes squinted at both Dean and redhead.

The little girl burst into laughter and looked at Dean, “Hi, my name is Anna, what’s yours?”

He gave a small smile because she was obviously a happy adjusted child, “Dean.”

Anna came a little closer and the man made a disapproving noise, “That’s cool, are you hungry?”

Dean paused to think about it, was about to refuse when his stomach gave a loud grumble in anticipation.  Dean hung his head in shame and Anna laughed at him once again.  

She turned around and went to the left of the cave which was lined with different cubbies that looked like they were once holes in the wall.  It should have looked weird or awkward, but somehow managed to look cool.  The cubbies lined the entire wall and varied in sizes.  They essentially were just holes in the wall.  Some of the cubbies had little cloths that covered them and they made an interesting pattern.  It was very rustic.

Anna came back with a small bowl that was a rich brown.  She handed it to the other angel who had grumbled under his breath and walked over the fire pit.  Blue-eyes lifted the top off of a cast iron pot that had a long handle sticking out of it and three legs.  

He poured some kind of thick soup into the bowl that smelled absolutely amazing.  Dean’s stomach gave another growl in anticipation and blue eyes said something to Anna who asked Dean, “He want’s to know if you want bread or rice to go with the soup.”

Dean looked at blue-eyes profile before answering, “Whatever is easier.  I don’t want to be a bother.”

The angel frowned harder, Dean didn’t know that was possible, and rose to go to another cubbie.  He moved the cloth to the side and drew out what Dean is going to assume is bread.  It was similar to Pita bread because it was round.  

He came back and tossed a few pieces onto the grill over the flame to warm them.  He also said something to Anna again.

“He wants to know if you want to wash up for dinner,” she paused to listen to something blue eyes said, “no, I’m not saying that.” she grumbled.

Dean felt like an outsider.  Here these two that were obviously close speaking in a language that he couldn’t begin to understand are fighting because of him.  

“Yeah-I’d like that.  Just point me in the direction of a bathroom--”

Blue-eyes snorted at that.

Anna giggled.

Dean thought about what he could’ve---oh yeah, that’s right, they were in a cave in the forest there were no bathrooms.

Blue eyes rose and waited.

Dean looked at him confusedly when Anna interpreted for him, “He is waiting for you to get up so that he can take you to wash up.”

Oh that makes sense, can’t have the prisoner wandering around all loose in this forest without adult supervision.  Don’t want the lowly human to escape.

Dean struggled to sit up and suddenly realized that blue eyes had reached down and slid his arm across his shoulders and gripped him roughly before dragging him up.  

The world blurred for a moment, but Dean was able to focus quickly.  The angel continued to help him walk until they reached a small tunnel.  Blue eyes led him into a dark cove and Dean realized he felt sand under his feet.

It caused him to frown, but continue to walk until the sand thickened.  

Along the cave wall there were green squiggles that glowed.  It caused a muted green light to be reflected along the floor creating an illuminated path.  It was both creepy and cool at the same time.

Dean was led to a small shelf that stuck out of the wall.  It turns out that it’s a basin and water dribbles down from a crack in the wall and collects at the bottom.  It looks clean so Dean was brave and reached to cup a handful of water.

The green worms on the wall glowed brightly enough that Dean could see how clean the water was.  It was crystal clear.

Blue eyes snorted at him and Dean shot him a dark look, “You see how you feel when you wake up and someone takes you to a wall that has water coming out of it.  Would you expect it to be clean?  Especially if no one told you that it was clean or not?” Dean grumbled at the end.

Blue eyes facial expression changed and Dean wanted to say he looked guilty but that couldn’t be right.

Dean grunted and went back to scooping up some water and washing his face.  The water was warm and refreshing.  Dean looked around for some kind of soap and found a small stone bowl with bulbs of flowers inside of it.

“Well that’s an interesting take on poperii.” Dean muttered.

Blue eyes still didn’t respond.

“Well what the hell am I supposed to do with that?” Dean griped.

No response.

With a heavy sigh Dean reached for one of the bulbs, “This better not give me a rash or something like poison ivy.”

As soon as his hand touched the bulb a fine lather appeared.  Huh, it was soap.  That’s kind of cool.  Dean awkwardly washed his hands and turned around to face the angel.

Dean had to pull back a little bit because the angel had no concept of personal space and was practically on top of him.  Dean raised a hand and pressed it to the angels chest and gave him a firm push back, “Dude, personal space.”

The angel tilted his head like he didn’t understand when dean realized something, “Why aren’t you talking anyways?  Anna already blew the whistle on that.  What’s your name anyways?”

No response.

“Fine then, I’ll come up with something to call you then.” Dean promised.

No response.

Okay then, Dean thought, I have to call him something other than blue eyes.  

They made their way back to the cave and found that Anna had poured some of the soup into that bowl and was sitting down waiting for them.

He slowly made his way over to his nest of blankets and sat down.  Dean had no concept of time so he no idea how long he had been missing.

“How long have I been asleep?” Dean asked.

Blue eyes said something to Anna in Enochian and she looked over at Dean, “Only a couple of hours.  You looked really bad so Ca--” Blue eyes cleared his throat loudly, “he cleaned you up and then you woke up.” She paused a moment, “Oh yeah and we cooked.”

Dean nodded and looked down into the bowl.  It smelled awesome and Dean wondered if he should suck it up and just eat or outright refuse.

Instead Dean sat back and watched both angels lift their bowls and dip little spoons into it.  Dean watched blue eyes part his lips and close over the spoon and heat bloomed low in his gut.  Dean quickly glanced back down at his soup reached for the small wooden spoon.  He glanced back up and noticed both angels eating heartily so he tentatively took a sip of soup.

Rich flavors burst across his tongue causing Dean to moan in appreciation.  It was a healthy mix of different vegetables and spices.  It had a thick broth that was filling.  Dean glanced up embarrassed at the noises that he made and realized that both angels had ignored him.  He watched as Anna dipped some of the flat bread into the soup and ate it.  

Dean reached over to do the same and found that the bread was slightly sweet and caused was really good along with the soup.  

They continued to eat in silence and Dean was the first one to finish even though he was the last to begin.  It was only slightly embarrassing considering the fact he was a prisoner.  

Dean was pleasantly full and starting to feel sleepy.  It was a natural type of sleep not a drug induced one where it felt unnatural and forced.

Dean went to reach for his bowl once more and pain blossomed across his body reminding him that he was hurting.  

“Sit back Dean, catch a few hours of sleep and then we can talk.  It looks like you’re hurting so get some rest.” Anna said as she reached across and took Dean’s bowl as well as blue eyes.

Dean could only nod as he laid back down and felt sleep wrap its warm fingers around him and drag him under.  Dean willingly went to sleep.

He woke up a few hours later completely rested and to a dimmed cave.  Dean looked up when he heard vines creaking and saw the nests for the first time.  They looked like huge hammocks and they hung in top left and right corner.  In each nest was a pile of blankets and the smaller one had to be for Anna.

Dean looked up at the stone ceiling for a little while until he had to get up to use the bathroom.  He went to push himself up and had to bit back a sharp groan because his body really hurt.  Dean had forgotten that he fought Gordon.  Dean looked down at his chest and saw the strips of fabric that covered his chest.  They hadn’t been there when he was awake.  The angels must have put them on him when he fell asleep.  Dean must have been in a deep sleep to not wake up while they were shifting him.

Tentatively Dean reached up to his face to touch his throbbing temple and found more bandages.  Interesting.

There was a quiet rustle of feathers and suddenly blue eyes was in front of Dean.  Dean gaped a little bit when he noticed that the angel wore soft pants and no shirt.  The different tattoos ran up his arms and over his shoulders to meet around his clavicle.  Over his chest there were two symbols that looked vaguely familiar and must be enochian.  

The angels hair was sleep tousled and his wings were impressively folded against his back.  Dean yet again didn’t feel threatened, but more studied and he didn’t know if that disturbed him more or not.

Suddenly Dean found himself getting angry because of the fact that this angel hasn’t said a single word to him all day. It makes Dean feel as if he wasn’t important enough to have a conversation with.  As if this guy, no this insufferable angel, thinks that he is better than Dean.

Dean’s blood began to boil and he snapped, “What the hell is your problem?  What cat got your tongue angel?”

The angel snorted.

That only caused Dean’s temper to flare hotter, “I don’t know what your problem is.  I don’t know why you’re such a self righteous asshole, but I did save that little girl over there and you didn’t even tell me thank you.”

The angel continued to stare at Dean.

He grit his teeth and struggled to stand.  The angel reached out and steadied him.  Dean jerked his arm from his grasp and stumbled over to the entrance/exit of the cave to look for the outside.   He really had to take a piss.

Dean braced his arm against the cave wall and followed it outside.  There was a slight breeze.  Once he found himself outside Dean walked for a little bit ignoring the fact that he wasn’t wearing shoes or any clothing really or that his entire body ached.  

He took a deep breath and tried to calm down.  Well apparently he wasn’t a hostage because the angel let him walk out.  Then again there really wasn’t anywhere for him to go.

Dean realized with a jolt that he was in the side of a mountain.  An honest to god mountain.  As in high in the fucking air.  Like up above the ground.

Fuuuuuccccckkkkkkk Dean thought.  Drawing out the word in his mind.

He looked around until he found a spot that was relatively secluded and did his business.  When he was done Dean walked back to the cave mouth and noticed how isolated it really was.

Off in the distance Dean could see street lights and signs of a town or city.  The rest was dark and obviously forrest.  It caused Dean to wonder if there was a way for angels who are on the run to be able to hide out in this forest.  Or even if the blue eyed angel would help shelter them.

The location was perfect.  It was a cave raised up high so you would know if someone was coming.  It was well hidden in the mountains’ wall so you had to be familiar with the area in order to find the spot.

If there was an angel in need, maybe they could be sent here until they can either go back to their people or be placed in a safe location.

Somewhere---a twig snapped causing Dean to look up spin around sharply.  

Blue-eyes was standing there.

Dean sighed, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

He still didn’t say anything, but he held out a steaming cup of something that smelled like flowers.

I guess he wants him to drink it, but Dean doesn’t drink frilly girl drinks, “Look I appreciate that you want to---”

“It’s for the pain.” Came a voice that sounded like gravel wrapped in silk.

Dean’s mind immediately drew a blank.  All intelligent thought flew right out the window and he stood there gaping at the angel like a fish out of water.  Gasping for breath.

“Uhh” is what his intelligent mind decided to spit out of his mouth.   Uh instead of oh hey look you can talk, or took your ass long enough.  No, mister smart brain decided to use the nonsensical sound of uh. “I mean, so he speaks!”

The angel snorted again, “Very clever.  You should drink this for the pain.  Once the sun rises we must dispose of the bodies and then you have to leave.”

“Wait a minute--” Dean started.

“This isn’t up for discussion.  I wasn’t asking you, I am telling you.”

Dean stomped over to the angel and snatched the cup from him.  He brought it close to his nose and took a deep inhale.  It smelled like different flowers and he tentatively took a sip.  It tasted like flowers.  He quickly swallowed the cups contents and started coughing.

Once he was done coughing he noticed that the sky had begun to lighten off to the east.  He stared at the sky for a moment until the angel broke the silence, “Once the sun rises we will go.”

Dean flicked his eyes to him and walked over to the mountain’s wall.  He found a stone that looked steady and sat down.  He braced his back against the stone and ignored the chill that crept along his skin.

“Where are my weapons?”  Dean finally asked as he watched the sun’s pink fingers begin to spread across the sky.

“That is not of import.”

“What? Now hold on just a second--”

“I don’t understand why you are still talking.”  The angel interrupted.

“Because I can Sir Douche.”

“I don’t understand that reference.  Sir Douche is not my name.  My name is Castiel.”

“Well Cassiiel--”

“Castiel” The angel interrupted again, “My name is pronounced Cas-te-el.” he said drawing out the different syllables.

“What ever, just stop interrupting me.” Dean muttered.  Finally Dean got a name for this guy.  Castiel.  It sounded weird in his head.  It sounded like something he would trip over if he tried to pronounce it out loud.  Cas, Cas sounded better.  It was shorter and not as complex.  

“Well dude, I’m gonna be honest with you, you’re still a dick.”  With that Dean turned and looked back at the sky and watched the sun burst across the horizon.  Bright rays cutting across the muted sky.  All around them birds began chirping and singing their songs to anything that would listen.

Dean continued to ignore the angel until the sun rose completely.  Together they watched it march across the sky until everything was bathed in a warm bright light.  Dean felt better.  His body no longer ached and he enjoyed the sun’s kiss against his skin.  He was happy that his aches and pains finally muted themselves.

“Where are my clothes?” Dean suddenly asked breaking the silence between the two of them.  It was more of an awkward silence then a tense one.

“I will retrieve them for you.  Stay here.” Cas said as he walked away.

“As if there’s anywhere for me to go!” Dean shouted after him.

Dean sighed.  He waited until Cas returned with his clothes and got dressed.  Dean pulled on his clothes and realized that they were washed.  They were slightly damp, but it was better than dirty and covered in blood.  

Dean looked around for some type of bridge or ladder to get down. It wasn’t that Dean was afraid of heights, but rather being up high is unnatural.  If god meant for man to be in the air then he would have given them wings.  Oh wait.

Dean snorted at himself and tried to keep himself from turning green as the angel advanced on him.

“So…” Dean tried to be nonchalant, “how are we going to get down? Is there a secret stairwell somewhere?”

“No.” was the only thing Cas said before he swept Dean up in his arms and leapt from the edge.

Dean will deny the undignified scream he let out until his dying day.  Dean gripped fistfulls of Cas’ clothing and clung to him as he felt the world swirl around him.  One bad move and Dean knew, he just knew that he would fall to his death.  They were probably so high in the sky that the fucking clouds are confused.  They might as well keep an eye out for planes so that they don’t get---

Dean needs to think about something else so instead he tries to focus on the warm body that was gripping him tightly.  The scent of sandalwood and citrus wrapped up so nicely with the underlining of ozone.  It was intoxicating.  The chest he was pressed against was firm and he pressed himself closer.  

Soon they landed softly and Dean could finally hear his own thoughts.  The wind stopped rushing around them and he was instantly warmer.  Cas set him down gently, but Dean’s legs were jelly.  He wobbled a little bit and Cas reached out and steadied him.

Dean drew in a long shaky breath and tried to calm down his heart beat.  It was pounding along with the roaring in his ears.  He took one more breath before he spoke slowly, “A little warning next time.”

Cas froze and looked at Dean and he really looked at him.  Dean didn’t know what he saw on his face, but Cas suddenly had slightly flushed cheeks, “I-I apologize,” he began “I was not aware of your fear of flying.”

Dean glared at him, “I am not afraid of flying, it’s just unnatural.”

Cas raised his eyebrow, “To you maybe.”

Dean ground his teeth together and turned around to see where they were.  

It was the same forest from earlier.  Together, they walked and soon they got to where Anna was held captive.  In daylight it still looked terrifying.  There were thick cords and cables that they had used to anchor the trap.  The stench of blood was thick under the smell of damp earth.  There was a thin sheet of little raindrops on everything meaning that it had rained.  The ground was soft and spongy underneath his feet.

Dean took in the sight before him.  There were the two men on the ground.  There were the two bodies.  The first one was on the floor his head turned at that impossible angle, but Gordon.  Gordon was a mess.  His clothes were stained red and there was an ugly gaping wound where his stomach was.

Dean swallowed and tried to take another step forward when he remembered that there were shovels in the backseat of the Impala.  He knew which direction he had came from so he would have to backtra--

Suddenly there was another rush of wind and the fluttering of wings that derailed his thoughts.  Dean looked up and froze.  There was another angel standing across from him.  Cas was next to him and instantly Dean knew.

Dean felt his heart begin to pound in his chest.

He should have known that this was going to be a trap.  How could he be so stupid.  He was out in the middle of the forest with no weapons, no cellphone, and two angels.

Fuck.

 

 


	6. New Perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why did you come here?” Jo asked softly.
> 
> “We wanted permission.”
> 
> “Permission for what?”
> 
> Jo stared into Dean’s eyes and every so often she flicked her gaze over to the angel, “To use the property for our cause.”
> 
> She took a menacing step forward, “And what exactly is your cause?”
> 
> Both of them stood their ground, “Equality.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally meet Jo, Ellen, and Ash.

Joanna Beth Harvelle was bored out of her mind.  She was twenty-three and still lived at home with her mom who runs a bar called The Roadhouse.  Sounds so fucking glamorous she knows.    It’s absolutely awesome living on top of a bar with an overbearing and overprotective mother.

It’s totally allows her to have a sex life.  Jo snorts as she continues wiping down the counter.  She couldn’t remember the last time she actually had sex.  

“What are you huffing about over there?” Ellen, Jo’s mother asked as she filled huge mugs with beer from the tap.

“Nothing mom.  I’m just--I don’t even know anymore to be honest.” Jo pouted as she rinsed the rag to continue wiping down the already spotless bar.

“Well pull your head out of your ass and send these drinks over to table fifteen.  I have a few more orders to fill.”  With that her mother placed the last mug of beer down and turned around.  She was probably going to the kitchen where Ash the cook was either drinking or sleeping.

The Roadhouse was definitely a five star establishment.

After placing the mugs of beer to the most annoying college kids Jo turned to go back to the bar and bumped into some huge dude.  His arms came up and steadied her as she threatened to fall over.

“Wow there little lady, take it easy. Promise I didn’t mean to get in your way.”  

Jo’s eyes dragged up eyeing a firm looking chest until she got to a chin that was covered in dark blonde stubble, soft pink lips, and the sharpest green eyes she had ever seen.

“Watch it asshole, I ain’t no little lady.  You can bet your ass that I can kick it right out the damn door.”  She snapped and realized that’s probably why she hasn’t gotten laid in two years.

“As much as I would like to test that theory sweetheart, I can’t at the moment.  I’m looking for the owner Ellen Harvelle.  You happen to know her?”  The stranger asked.

Jo crossed her arms, “What makes you think that I would know her?”

“Let’s just call it powers of deduction.  You’re wearing a shirt with the bar’s logo _and_ an apron.”  Smug bastard said.

“Grab a booth asshole and I’ll go ahead and get her for you.”

Humor twinkled in his eyes and damn him for looking so fuckable.

Jo turned around and finished up a few orders and did not get her mom.  She sat behind the bar serving drinks until it died down a little.  Truthfully she completely forgot about the guy until she saw her mom out of the corner of her eye.  She immediately stopped making the drink in her hand and rushed over her to her mom.

Some asshole started complaining and she simply told him to shut the fuck up and wait.

Yep the service in this place is impeccable.

“Jo what the hell are you---” her mom began.

“Shh mom.  Some guy is out there asking for you.”

Ellen’s eyes narrow, “What do you mean?”

“He asked for you by name mom.  Corner booth facing the bar.  Green eyes blonde hair and ugly plaid shirt.  Didn’t come get you because I figured that you wouldn’t want to talk to him.”

“Did he say what he wanted?”

“Didn’t give him the chance mom.  Told him to grab a seat and then I ignored him.  It’s been about an hour and he’s still there.”

Ellen peered around the corner and saw him sitting down and nodded at Jo.  “Tell him to come back tomorrow.  Right now it’s too busy to talk.”

With that she turned around and went into the back office.  

Jo went back to the bar and finished making that asshole’s drink.  Soon she got busy again when suddenly, “I see you guys are really hopping right now.”

Jo snorted, “Who the hell uses that phrase?  Where you from? Some big city?”

He grinned and it looked genuine, “Nah, I’m from little ol’ Kansas.”

“Figures.” Jo muttered.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Did you not look around when you got here? This place is hick central and you fit right in don’t you?”

“Nah, I figured my perky nipples help me stand out from the rest.”

Jo roared with laughter that some of the regulars at the bar gave her puzzled looks.

“Alright asshole,” Jo began after she composed herself, “what do you want?”

“Love the service here, it just makes me all tingly inside.  Nothin’ much, was just hoping to have a conversation with her.”

“Well she’s mighty busy right now, told me to let you know to come back tomorrow.”

“Alright.” He said with a frown then he reached into his pocket and drew a piece of paper.  Next he pulled out a pen and wrote something down. “Here, give this to her and have her give me a call with a time and place.”

He gave Jo a little salute and walked out.  Jo slipped the paper into her back pocket and went back to work.

*     *     *

It wasn’t until after closing that Jo remembered the card.  She pulled it out and unfolded it.  In a surprisingly neat script the paper read:

**Dean Winchester**

**1-555-894-2527**

Huh, that name sounds familiar.

Jo walked over to the office and knocked on the door.  She opened it after a few seconds, “Hey mom here’s the guy's name and number.  He said that you should give him a call when you want him to come in.”

Jo unceremoniously dropped the folded piece of paper onto the desk and for the first time actually took a look at her mother.  

Her mother looked exhausted.  There were dark bruises under her eyes, a testament to how hard she works.  Her chestnut brown hair had small streaks of gray and there were extra lines around her eyes and mouth making her look older than she really is.  

“Hey mom you alright?” She asked quietly.

“Yeah honey I am,” she leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes, “I’m just really tired.”

“Well how about we go home then? Everything is clean and locked up.  We can come down early tomorrow and finish up whatever.”

“Yeah honey good idea,” with that she rose and together they went up after telling Ash good night.

Jo went into her room and sat down on her bed.  Her room was small, but really neat.  It’s not like her mom ever lets it get messy.  If there is a hint of mess she gets yelled at for being a heathen.  

Jo reaches for the small booklet that she has for a local community college and wonders if she should go back to school.  Her first attempt at college didn’t go so well.  She was too weird.  Her mom had raised her to take care of herself by making sure she knew how to throw and take a punch.  She had always been fascinated by knives and realizes now that not everyone has the same fascination.

She was the freak at school with a knife collection.

She was just a freak period.

Her mom tried the best she could.  After her dad died when she was a baby, mom made sure that she knew self-defense so that if she ever needed to resort to violence she wouldn’t be helpless.

That was something Jo has always been grateful for.

Giving the booklet one last long glance Jo slipped it into the top drawer of her nightstand and got ready for bed.  There was no way she could make it in school.  Her mom needed her here.  At the Roadhouse.

*     *     *

The next day was exhausting.  They had a shipment come in and Jo and Ash were unloading everything into the storage room.  Heavy boxes of liquor that seemed to never end were slowly driving her insane.

“Ash did I tell you about the guy from yesterday?”

“The one you were rude to? Nah, but it was entertaining to watch on camera.”

“I bet it was you perv.  His name was familiar.”

“What was it?”

“Winchester.”

“Winchester? Like the gun? Or the famous hunter?”

Jo snapped her fingers as she leaned against some of the boxes and nodded.  That’s why it sounded familiar.  For a long time she followed the Winchesters because of the fact that they were the best hunters out there.  If she remembers right there are three of them.  

The only reason she was so interested in them was because she wanted to be a hunter, but there weren’t any schools that specialized in that stuff unless you went into law enforcement and her mom already shot that idea down.

Jo sighed when she heard her mom call out to her.  She went up the stairs gladly and abandoned Ash to finish up the rest of the boxes.  As she rounded the corner she froze.

Her mom had her shotgun aimed at the guy from last night, Dean.

“Hey now there is no reason for that.” He stated calmly as he continued to have his hands raised.  

“Jo, go ahead and search him.”

Dean sent her a cocky smirk, “Finally gonna get to see my perky nipples?” he said making it sound like a question.

Jo stalked over to him and shoved him against the wall, “Feisty, I like that in a woman.” Jo didn’t respond she just dug her fingers into his spine and kicked his legs apart until he stood awkwardly.  She leaned in close to his ear as she ran her hands along his body checking for weapons and whispered, “This is the only position I like my men in.”

Dean choked on a laugh as Jo took two guns and a knife.  She walked away and set his weapons on the bar and pulled herself up.  This was going to be fun.

“What the hell are you doing here boy?” Mom snapped at him and Jo cringed a little because she knew that tone.

That tone meant you were in deep shit.  There was no way out of the punishment that she cooked up for you and it wasn’t directed at her either.  Mom was super scary sometimes.  Maybe that’s why she hasn’t been laid in so long.

“Look Ellen I just want to talk.”

“Watch your tone with me boy.” Mom said quietly and Jo found herself cringing along with Dean.

Dean shut up and continued to stare at her at her mom.  Something passed between them silently and suddenly mom pointed the shotgun to the ground, “Come back to my office so that we can talk, but don’t think that I won’t shoot you if I don’t like what you have to say.”

Dean nodded and slowly lowered his arms.  He slowly walked toward her mom and they left while Jo remained sitting on the bar gazing into space when Ash came up.  

Together the both of them prepped for opening and Jo lost track of time.  She knocked on the office door to see if mom and Dean wanted something to eat and only found her mom.  She hadn’t even seen Dean when he left.  Jo sighed and went to take out the trash.

It was her turn so she gathered the different bags and walked through the back of the bar until she found the exit.  She pulled on her coat because it was getting colder with both fall creeping in and the sun setting,

Jo walked over to the dumpster and threw the bags in when she heard shouting.  She couldn’t hear the words.  Her mom owned the surrounding property and no one was supposed to be back there.  Sometimes truckers or stupid locals liked to go out there thinking that they can smoke pot or have sex, usually they call the cops and get them thrown out for trespassing.  Something about this instance bothered Jo though.

She crept through the trees and the words got louder, “I’m telling you Cas I talked to her for hours and she said that she had to think about it.”

“We need to know soon, this property happens to fall in the middle of--” a twig snapped under Jo’s foot and she froze.

When she heard footsteps coming closer Jo sprang into action and ran behind a tree.  

Suddenly there was a strong gust of wind and a soft thump.  She pressed her back against the tree and took a steadying breath before she turned to peer around the tree.

“Hey blondie, fancy meetin’ you here?” Dean said.

All the fight left Jo and she sagged against the tree before getting up the nerve to face Dean.

She came out from behind the tree and gasped.  Not only was it Dean, but there also was an angel standing a little in front of him.

The angel was beautiful.  He had huge black wings that sort of simmered in the light from the setting sun.  He also had dark hair the stuck out a million different ways.  His eyes though, his eyes were so blue and Jo was mesmerized by them.

“You know this human?” the angel asked.

“Yeah Cas, she’s Ellen’s daughter Jo.”

The angel Cas drew back his massive wings and folded them against his back.  He looked less threatening a little more human.

Jo finally got her wits together, “What the hell are you doing with him?” she asked a bit too forcefully.

Cas tilted his head to the side as if he was processing the question when Jo realized that he spoke in English and everyone knows that angel’s don’t speak english.  “Wait did he just talk in English?”

Dean laughed and both Jo and Cas frowned at him, “I’m sorry I just had the same reaction when I heard him speak English too.”

“Well?” Jo asked.

“Listen Jo I don’t know which question you want me to answer first.  The one about Cas or the fact that he talks English?”

“How about the fact that your even near an angel without capturing him! Aren’t you some great hunter?”

“Jo--Cas is a dear friend of mine.”

“What? You of all people should know that angles are dangerous.”

“A lot of the stuff you see on TV and online are based on lies.  Haven’t you heard about that thing online, Free to Fly?”

“Wait are you telling me that you want to be like all those other weirdos who want equality and shit for angels?”

“Jo, I am telling you that--”

“Wait, what I overheard, you only came here to talk to my mom because you want something.”

Both of them had the grace to look guilty and the gears in Jo’s mind started working.  Mom owned a lot of the surrounding the land.  Infact everyone knows to stay off the property because none of them played games when it came to what’s theirs.  The property was just large enough to hide in.

“Why did you come here?” Jo asked softly.

“We wanted permission.”

“Permission for what?”

Jo stared into Dean’s eyes and every so often she flicked her gaze over to the angel, “To use the property for our cause.”

She took a menacing step forward, “And what exactly is your cause?”

Both of them stood their ground, “Equality.”

Jo slowly felt her heart tear because of the fact that her dad had been killed by an angel and to think that Dean, someone she really thought she could have a connection with supported that cause really hurt.

Jo hardened herself, “Get off my property before I call the cops.”

She turned around ignoring Dean’s calls and stomped over to her mom’s office.  She burst in without knocking and glared at her mom.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“What did you and Dean talk about?”

“He wanted to know if he could use the land out back.”

“To hide angels?” Jo spat out.

Mom leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, “You don’t agree?”

“And you do?” Jo shouted.

“I haven’t made a decision yet.  I wanted to talk to you and Ash first because this is something that affects both of you.”

“Mom how could you even consider helping them with that when angels killed dad.”

Mom looked into Jo’s eyes for a long time, “Jo,” she began carefully, “I came to terms with that a long time ago.  Instead of focusing on the bad things and trying to get revenge, I decided to focus on raising you right.”

Jo glared at her mom as she tried to shift through her emotions.  She was so angry.  Finally she decided to go to her room.  She rushed out of the office and ran up to her room.

She sat in the center of her bed for a long time.  Going over her conversation with Dean and Cas.

_A lot of the stuff you see on TV is lies._

_We wanted permission._

_Join our cause._

_Thing online...Free to Fly online._

_Equality._

*     *     *

There was a knock at her door right before the bar opened, “Jo, do you want to come down?”

She remained silent.  Jo knew that it was childish, but she couldn’t help it.

Around midnight Ash came up and knocked, “Hey Jo, I left you some food by the door.”

“Well?”

“Well what?” Ash wondered.

“Aren’t you going to going to ask me to come out?”

“Nah man,” Ash paused, “I know it’s hard for you to see angels as equals because of all the stuff you and your mom have gone through, but I don’t know Jo.” Ash paused again, “I don't have the same trepidation's as you I guess.”

“Go away Ash.” Jo finally said as she processed what he told her.

If angels were like humans then they would feel the same way.  They would know that it is wrong to kill someone.  If angels were human then they would have never taken her dad and he would still be alive.  She wouldn’t watch her mom work herself to the bone to make sure that Jo had stability because there would be another person to take some of the load.

It was around five in the morning when Jo finally came out of her room.  She felt bad for not helping at the bar today, but she really needed the time to herself.  She really needed to think everything through.  If her mom and Ash both wanted to do this, then she needed to see what Dean was talking about.

Jo went down the stairs and crept into the office.  She heard her mom come up sometime around three and around four Ash’s music stopped playing.

Jo went into the office and made her way to the desk in order to use the ancient computer.  It was proof that dinosaurs once roamed the earth.

Once she turned it on and the screen loaded she looked around the dark office.  The only light was what came from the computer screen.  On the desk there was a framed photo of Jo, her mom, and Ash.  It was taken a few years ago.  Ellen stood in the middle and she had her arms wrapped around the both of them.  

When the screen finally loaded she clicked on the internet icon and opened up a search engine.  Inside the search engine she wrote _free to fly_.

A lot of results came up, but she chose the first one.

Once the site was completely loaded Jo could only gape.  It was a simple website in both blue and black.  There were little cartoon wings around the different pages.  In the center of the page there was the hunter symbol.  It was a five point star with a circle around it, but instead of it just being a ring, there were flames too.  It actually made it look better.

There were four pages.  One was about, one had myths, another had facts, and the final one said comments.  Jo clicked on myths.

**MYTH: ANGELS DON’T HAVE FEELINGS.**

Jo thought back to her meeting with Cas and Dean and realized that maybe the reason Cas came off as being so threatening is because of the fact that he was scared.  It would explain why Dean was at ease with him while Jo was uncomfortable.

**MYTH: ANGELS ARE SIMILAR TO RABID ANIMALS.**

Jo tilted her head to the side at this one.  Cas did not seem like any rabid animal.  In fact he was very well spoken and human-like.

**MYTH: ANGELS AREN’T INTELLIGENT.**

Cas seemed very intelligent.  Did people really believe this stuff Jo wondered.  Jo scrolled back to the top of the page and chose facts.

**FACT: ANGELS ARE VERY FAMILY ORIENTATED.**

**FACT: ANGELS HAVE SOCIETAL TIERS.**

**FACT: THERE ARE MANY DIFFERENCES AND SIMILARITIES BETWEEN BOTH SPECIES.**

Jo sat back in the chair and wondered that maybe she had been wrong all along.  Maybe the reason that she couldn’t move past her not hate, but extreme dislike for angels is because she hasn't come to terms with her father's death.

She continued to research and found an article written by a Becky Rosen.  She read the article and continued to research well into the morning.  If she was going to make a decision about this topic, she is going to know every damn thing about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New year everyone. Hope it is going way better than 2015. Thank you for sticking with this story and my erratic updates, but there is another one being written as we speak, well I type to be exact. Well anyways, happy new year people.

**Author's Note:**

> So the posting schedule is going to be every two weeks. Sorry to make you all wait, but I want to make sure what I give you is actually good.  
> I do not own anything related to SPN. I am only borrowing the characters, but the plot is all me.


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